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FRENCH'S 

®t)c  Acting  ISOition. 
No.  CXXX. 


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MARRIED    LIFE: 


A    COMEDY,   IN   THREE  ACTS. 


Bf  JOHN  BALDWIN  PUCKSTONK,  i*  ^Q 

MEMFEB    ir    THE    DRAMATIC   AUTHORS'    SOCIKTV. 


TO  MTHICH  ARE  ADDED, 

h   fe<««Tiption  rf  the  Costume — Cast  of  the   Characters — Eutranc**   iBd    Y 
Relative  Fositioiu  of  the  Performers  on  the  Stage,  and  the  whoU  of  the 
Stage  Business. 


4>    FKRrORMSD    AT    ALL    THE    PRINCIPAL    THEATRES    IH    7n« 
UNITSD    STATBS. 


NEW  YORK  LONDON" 

SAMUEL   FEENCH  SAMUEL   FRENCH 

PUBLISHER  PUBLISHER 

24  West  33d  Street  89    Strand 


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LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIPORNM; 

SANTA  BAIIBARA 


ft •  f  t ttm e .— (MAtKiiD  Lin.) 


Mr.  SAMUEL  CODDLE— First  dress,  a  drab  long  pilot  cloth  great 
coat,  a  grey  spencer,  drab  trowsers,  broad  brimmed  hat,  and  Welsh  wig 
Second  dress,  a  blue  coat,  black  satin  waistcoat,  drab  trowsers.  Thin 
dress,  nankeen  coat  and  trowsers,  white  waistcoat  and  straw  hat. 

Mr.  LIONEL  LYNX — First  dress,  morning  gown,  white  waistcoat, 
and  trowsers.     Second  dress,  brown  dress  coat. 

Mr.  FREDERICK  YOUNGH  USB  AND— Blue  coat,  fancy  waist- 
coat, tight  pantaloons,  and  hessian  boots. 

Mr.  GEORGE  DISMAL— Light  olive  coat,  drab  small-clothes  and 
gaiters. 

Mr.  HENRY  DOVE — A  plum-colored  froack  coat,  buff  waistcoat, 
white  trowsers,  and  white  hat. 

Mrs.  SAMUEL  CODDLE — White  muslin  dress,  and  white  satin 
bonnet. 

Mrs.  LIONEL  LYNX— A  white  silk  dress. 

Mrs.  FREDERICK  YOUNGHUSBAND,  a  pink  silk  dress  and 
Wcnnet. 

Mrs.  GEORGE  DISMAL— A  plum-colored  silk  dresf . 

Mis.  HENRY  DOVE— A  yellow  aitk  dress,  and  whiie  chip  bjonot. 


MARRIED  LIFE. 


ACT  I. 

SCENE  I  "  in  cpaitment  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Lynx. — A  fire-plaee  M 
t}te  L.  8.  E.,  before  which  Lynx  is  discovered  in  his  morning -goven,  reouL 
ing  a.  nmcsyaper.  A  table  near  him,  with  breakfast  service  on  it.  Mk8, 
Lynx  at  a  small  table  on  r.  in  the  sulks ;  a  practicable  window  to  tkrov 
up,  R. 

Lynx.  l^Reading.']  "Bow  Street.  —  Matrimonial  Squabble.  —  The 
chief  magistrate  was  occupied  all  the  morning  investigating  a  case  of 
assault,  arising  out  of  a  matrimonial  squabble.  It  appears  that  the  wif« 
of  the  complainant  is  a  woman  of  violent  passions,  and  so  excessivel", 
jealous,  that  her  husband's  life  is  endangered."  Do  you  hear  that,  my 
dear  1      Yo\i  are  not  singular  in  your  temper,  you  see. 

Airs.  Ly    Indeed  ! 

Lynx.  There  are  other  women  in  the  world  excessively  jealous  besidei 
yourself. 

Mrs.  Ly.  You  think  so,  do  you  ' 

L^ix.   Shall  I  read  the  whole  of  the  police  repox-t  1 

Mrs.  Ly.  You  may  do  just  as  you  please. 

Lynx.  Don't  you  feel  interested  in  the  case  1  Have  you  no  aympa* 
thy  with  the  poor  woman  ! 

Mrs.  Lv.  You  have  taken  good  care  to  destroy  all  my  sympathy ;  in- 
deed, aiiuost  every  feeling  and  quality  that  I  once  possessed. 

Lynx.   Save  one,  my  dear. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Well,  sir,  what  is  that  ^ne  1 

Lynx.  The  quality  of  making  yourself  extremely  disagreeable— wh? 
ion't  you  take  breakfast  ^ 

Mrs.  Ly.  I  don't  want  any. 

Lynx.  You  did  not  sup  last  night. 

Mrs    Ly.   I  did  not  require  it. 

Lynx.  You  eat  nothing  at  dinner  yesterday, 

Mrs.  Ly.  I  had  no  appetite. 

Lynx.  You'll  starve  yourself  love,  and  die. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Then  you  will  be  happy. 

Lynx.  I  shall  certainly  lead  a  quieter  life 

Mrs.  Ly.  And    have   more   opportunities  for  carrying  oa  yooi  li 
irigues. 

Lynx    What  intrigues,  dear  1 


MARRIED    LIFE.  9 

Mrs   hy    "those  are  best  known  to  yourself. 

Lynx    I  thought  you   were  perfectly  acquainted  with  them 

Mrt.  Ly.   I  am  acquainted  with  a  sufficiency,  believe  me. 

Lynx.   Name  them,  my  dear. 

Sirs.  Ly    I  shall  not  trouble  myself  so  much. 

Lynx.  Nay,  I  insist. 

Mrs.  Ly  Well,  then,  sir, — my  dress-maker  could  not  call  yesterii; 
►^t  you  must  make  yourself  ridiculou.s. 

Lynx    What  did  I  do  1 

Mrs.  Ly     Yoa  told  her,  in  my  presence,  that  she  was    erj  pretty. 

Lynx.   Was  there  any  sin  in  that  i. 

Mrs.  Ly.  'Twas  not  only  a  very  great  familiarity  on  3  jur  pa : ,  sir,  bn) 
a  want  of  respect  for  me. 

Lyn^  True — it  was  wrong  in  me  to  forget  that  few  women  can  en 
dure  to  hear  another  admired. 

Mrs  Ly.  And  few  men  think  their  wives  to  be  possessed  of  anj 
charms  superior  to  the  first  doll  they  may  meet. 

LyyiT  Excellent,  indeed — my  love,  we  must  turn  thors,  and  between 
us  publish  a  book  of  Conjugal  Aphorisms.  Howe  :t,  I  plead  guilty  to 
vjnr  first  charge,  and  implore  your  mercy — proceej  to  the  next. 

Mrs.  Ly.  I  think  the  last  time  we  walked  out  witn  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cod 
d)«i,  that  you  might  have  offered  me  your  arm,  and  not  have  left  me  to 
the  care  of  the  husband,  while  you  flirted  with  the  wife. 

Lynx.   What  do  you  call  flirting  ' 

Mrs.  Ly.  Whispering — laughing — and  affecting  to  have,  or  really 
having,  a  quantity  of  interesting  secrets.  Don't  ask  me  for  a  defini 
tion  of  the  word,  sir — I  am  not  a  dictionary. 

Lynx.  I  think  you  are,  my  dear — if  I  may  judge  by  the  hard  wordf 
that  you  ever  use  to  me.     Proceed  with  your  charges,  I  beg. 

Mrs.  Ly.  I  heard  of  your  being  in  a  private  box  at  the  theatre  two 
svenings  since — and  with  some  strange  female. 

Lynx.   Your  hearing  such  a  report  is  no  evidence  of  its  truth 

Mrs.  Ly  You  were  not  at  home  on  that  evening ;  indeed,  I  don'l 
know  when  you  are  at  home ;  always  out ;  always  running  about ;  call 
ing  jn  this  lady,  and  meeting  that  ;  receiving  notes  of  assignation,  and 
—  b  at  I'll  not  endure  it  longer,  Mr.  Lynx — you  may  provoke  me  beyond 
the  bounds  of  endurance,  and  then  beware 

Lynx    Of  what,  dear  ? 

Mrs.  Lv    That  is  best  known  to  m3'self 

Lynx.  1  am  grateful  for  the  information,  [Jiisinf.l  and  now  having 
discussed  a  very  conjugal  breakfast,  I  shall  prepsre  for  my  momirj 
walk. 

Mys.  Ly  Is  it  possible  that  you  can  have  no  particular  appointment ' 
Have  you  had  neither  pink  nor  blue  nole  this  mornmg  ] 

Lynx.  No,  my  love.  [A  twopenny  postman's  <nock  heard,  t, 

Mrs  Ly.  There's  the  postman. 

Jjynx.  So  I  hear. 

M's.  Ly.  A  letter  for  you,  no  doubt.  •  I  thought  it  would  be  Ftrang* 
itf  k  morning  passed  without  the  arrival  of  some  mysterious  billet  'iir  Mr. 
t^ynx.  f^VNi  makes  a  movement  tnvards  the  l.  entrance,  but  resume^  hit 


•  MARRIKD    LIFB. 

lent.]  \Jh,  air.  don't  check  your  impatience — anticipate  ^Dur  aeiwuit 

and  run  to  the  door,  I  beg. 

Lynx.  Certainly,  my  love — if  yoi  wish  it. 

[Lynx  jumps  up,  and  rb«*  off,  u 

Mrg  Ly.  Now,  sir,  I  thii.k  I  have  you  in  my  snare  ;  'tis  my  own  let- 
ter that  has  arrived,  bearing  a  fictitious  sisrnature,  and  appointing  to 
msei  him  in  the  park  alone.  He  will  receive  it,  read  it — then  what 
should  he  do — what  should  a  good  and  true  husband  do  under  such  cir- 
cumstances ?  Show  the  letter  to  his  wife.  Will  he  do  that  1  If  he 
iitf  1  will  freely  forgive — forget — and  think  all  I  have  seen  and  heard 
''  or,  delusions  and  falsehoods  ; — but  if  he  neither  gives  it  me,  noi 
iF.udes  to  it  in  any  way.  I  shall  be  convinced  of  his  perfidy,  and  my 
ct/urse  shdU  be  resolved  on. 

He-enter  Lynx,  singing  carelessly, 
"  I  have  pluck'd  the  fairest  flower,"  &c.  &c. 

Lynx.  By  Jove,  I  must  dress  ;  'tis  near  eleven.  [^Looking at  his  waieh  j 
My  love,  I  think  I  shall  dine  at  my  club  to-day. 

Jfj-».  Ly.  Was  the  letter  that  you  have  just  received  an  invitation  o 
neet  some  one  there  ■? 

Lynx.  Oh,  dear,  no. 

Mrs.  Ly    Was  it  from  any  one  that  I  am  acquainted  with  I 

Lynx.  No,  'twas  merely  a  note. 

Mrs.  Ly    On  a  matter  of  business  1 

Lynx.  Yes — yes — mere  business. 

Mrs   Ly.  Which,  of  course,  you  will  attend  to  1 

Lynx-   Business  must  be  attended  to,  my  dear. 

Mrs.  Ly.   Especially  when  the  only  business  of  a  man  is  pleasure 

Lynx.  Precisely. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Then  you  are  going  out  ? 

Lynx.  T  am. 

Mrs.  Ly.  I  think,  on  such  a  fine  morning  as  this,  you  might,  for  once 
sake  me  with  you. 

Lynx.  Certainly,  my  love,  if  you  wish  it. 

Mrs.  Ly.   Ah  '   will  he  take  me?  [Aside 

Lynx.  Yet,  now  I  think  of  it, — I  have  two  or  three  places  to  call  a^ 
whpre  I  may  be  detained. 

Mrs    Ly.  I  can  wait  for  you. 

Lynx  That'll  be  so  unpleasant :  I  shall  be  fidgetty  at  tlif  thoughts  of 
four  becoming  impatient,  and  half  the  little  matters  that  I  may  have  \a 
arrange  may  escape  my  memory.  You  had  better  name  to-morrow  liA 
>\LT  walk. 

Mrs.  Ly.  You  won^t  take  me  this  morning? 

Lynx.  Not  this  morning. 

Mrs.  Ly    You  will  go  out? 

Lynx.  1  must. 

Mrs.  Ly.  V  ry  well,  sir.  [Aside.]  Perfidious  man,  you  will  bittcrlj 
repent  this  treatment  of  me.  [Coddle  speaks  outside.]  There  is  some 
one  in  the  hall. 

Lynx.  [Looking  off.  l.]  They're  your  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Coddle 


HARRIED    LIFE.  7 

V^mj  will  amuse  you  during  the  ten  minutes  tn«    I  'equiro  foi  jiessm^ 

'vf  nat  a  strange  couple — so  oddly  assorted  ,  poor  Coudle  is  fhe  thinneat, 
chilliest  man  in  the  world.      You  must  sL^t  ail  your  wmdows. 

Mrs.  Ly.   His  wife  will  immediately  open  them. 

Lynx.  She,  poor  thing,  is  so  hot.  When  he  is  below  freezing  point, 
•he  is  above  fever  heat. 

Mrs.  Ly.  You  must  allow  that  they  do  endeavor  to  accommodata 
themselves  to  each  other's  foibles,  and  not  oppose  them,  and  use  theaa 
ts  the  means  of  tormenting,  as  some  people  do  ! 

Lynx.  We  shall  see. 

Lnler  Mr.  and  Mas.  Coddle  ;  Coddle  wrapped  uj,  in  a  great  coat,  ozet 
which  is  a  spencer;  a  boa  round  his  throat;  a  cravat  covering  hit  chin. 
Mnd  a  Welsh  wig  on  his  head.  Mrs.  Coddls  is  iressed  in  thin  rthitt 
muslin. 

Cod.  Ah,  Mrs.  Lynx  ! 

Mrs.  Cod.  Good  morning,  my  friends. 

I/ynx.  How  d  ye  do  ]     How  d'ye  do  1 

Cod.  I'm  very  cold — ugh  !  fShuddering 

Lynx.  Quite  well,  Mrs.  Coddle  1 

Mrs.  Cod.  Very  well — but  so  hot.  Phew  !  Pray  open  the  windowi 
fedd  give  me  some  air. 

Cod.  No,  don't,  don't — I  shall  jump  out  of  one  of 'em,  if  you  do. 
My  inhuman  wife  would  drag  me  from  my  warm  fire-side  this  morning, 
although  1  told  her  there  was  an  incipient  easterly  wind  fluttering 
■bout.     If  it  should  blow  in  full  force  before  I  get  home.  I  shall  die. 

Mrs.  Cod.  My  dear  love — 'tis  nothing  but  a  fine  refreshing  breeze, 
and  one  that  you  ought  to  be  very  grateful  for. 

Cod.   I  tell  you  it  is  warmth  that  I  want — warmth. 

Mrs.  Cod.  And  it's  air  that  I  want — fine,  fresh,  blowing,  whistling 
air. 

Cod.  [Shuddcri7ig.'}  Ugh — don't  dear  vou  chill  me  to  the  bone  to 
hear  you. 

Lynx.  Be  seated,  I  beg.   \^Crosses  to  l.j   Excuse  me  for  a  few  minutes, 

[Exit  Lynx,  l. 
Mrs.  Ly.   [Aside.'\  If  he  does  go  out,  I'll  follow  him,  watch  him,  and 
enjoy  his  disappointment. 

Cod.  You  have  a  window  open  somewhere  Mrs.  Lynx — pray  shut  it. 
I  sat  in  a  draught  last  week,  that  so  completely  fixed  my  head  upon  my 
ihoulders,  that  I  couldn't  have  moved  it  without  turning  my  whole  body 
tt  the  same  time,  had  it  been  to  save  my  life. 

Mrs.  Cod    Merely  a  stiff  neck,  Mrs.  Lynx. 

O'od.  All  my  wife's  fault.  I  sat  for  five  days  in  this  attitude.  [Hold 
itig  his  head  up  stiffly.']  If  1  wanted  to  look  at  anybody  on  my  left,  I  was 
dMiged  to  turn  my  whole  body  thus.  If  any  one  spoke  to  me  on  my 
right,  I  could  only  attend  to  them  by  f,ivoting  so.  If  I  wished  to  see 
what  was  going  on  behind  me,  I  was  obliged  tc  whirl  round  like  > 
weathercock  at  a  sudden  change  in  he  wuid  ;  but  how  do  you  tb'nk  I 
itanaged  my  movement«i'' 

Af'«.  iiv    I  really  cin't  guess. 


9  MARRIED    LIFE. 

Cod.  'Twas  the  only  thing  I  could  hit  upon.  1  eat  upon  my  wiWi 
naeic-Btool  for  five  whole  days.  I  ate,  drank,  lived  and  iwirled  upoti  * 
Slusic-stool ; — all  through  sitting  in  a  draught — do  shut  your  windowa, 
there's  a  dear. 

^flrs.  Cod.  You'll  suffocate  me  some  day,  Coddle — I  know  you  will 
You  don't  know  what  a  life  I  lead  with  him,  Mrs,  Lynx — five  blanket* 
in  July— think  o'  that. 

Cod.  Highly  necessary — we  are  more  liable  to  take  cold  in  hot  we» 
ther  than  in  any  other.  1  always  have  four  colds,  one  rheumatismj  aai 
two  stiff  necks  every  July. 

Mrs.  Cod.  What  d'ye  think  he  did  a  week  ago,  Mrs.  Lynx?  I  had 
retired  early  ;  in  the  middle  of  the  night  I  awoke  in  such  a  state  of 
alarm — I  really  thought  the  room  beneath  us  was  on  fire  the  air  of 
my  apartment  was  so  hot.  so  sultry,  that  I  could  not  draw  my  breath; 
I  gasped  for  air.  What  can  be  the  matter?  I  said  to  myself.  Surely, 
['ve  been  suddenly  transported  to  the  Indies,  and  there  is  a  thunder- 
■torm  brewing.     I  rose — I  opened  the  windowo 

Cod.  And  almost  killed  me  on  the  spot ;  there  was  a  strong  north 
»ind  blowing  at  that  moment — enough  to  wither  one, — imprudent 
woman. 

Mrs.  Cod.  'Twas  a  fine  bracing  night  breeze — but  out  of  kindness  to 
Coddle,  I  immediately  closed  the  windows — Phew  !  Oh,  gracious,  had 
you  but  have  felt  the  heat — I  fainted  away  in  the  easy  chair — Coddle 
rang  the  bell — the  servants  came — and,  to  my  horror,  we  discovered 
hat  Coddle  had  clandestinely  introduced  a  German-stove  into  the  bed- 
room, and  there  it  was  red  hot.  Think  what  a  person  of  my  tempera- 
ment must  have  endured  '      I've  been  ill  ever  since. 

Cod.  Dr.  Heavysides  recommended  it ;  he  said  'twas  the  only  thing 
that  could  save  my  life,  and  rescue  me  from  a  threatened  pulrnonarj 
complaint.  I've  had  a  wheezing  cough  ever  since  its  removal — barbar 
•us  woman!  [Cough* 

Mrs   Cod.  You  seem  dull.  Mrs.  Lyng. 
Mrs.  Ly    I'm  not  in  very  good  spirits. 
Mrs.  Cod.  Ah  !  we  poor  wives  all  have  our  little  troubles. 
Cod.  And  we   poor  husbands  too.     Mrs.  Coddle  won't   let  me  wear 
&  hair-skin  comforter — did  you  ever  hear  of  such  cruelty  1 
Mrs    Cod.  He  thinks  of  nothing  but  his  own  personal  ease. 
Cod.   I'm  ol)liged  ;  there's  no  one  else  thinks  of  H  for  me. 
Mrs.  Cod    He's  the  most  apathetic  creature  living — no  life,  no  passion, 
no  impulse.     I  do  like  to  see  a  husband  subject  to  some  little  capricei 
of  temper.    If  Coddle,  now,  were  i.iclined  to  jealousy — end  would  scold 
me  well — and  throw  things  about,  and  go  into  a  fury  now  and  then,  ' 
■hould  be  the  happiest  woman  in  the  world  ;  but  he  won't — thr.re  he  sit* 
from  morning  till  night,  as  carefully  wrapped  up  as  an  Egyptian  mum- 
my    I  really  think  he  is  one ;  he  is — he's  King  Cheops.   [Aside  to  Mk«. 
Lynx  "J  Oh    Mrs    1-vpx,  I'd  jrive  the  world  to  make  him  jealous.     But 
what  IB  the  matter  with  you—  have  you  hnJ  words  with  your  huEband' 
Mra.  Ly    I  confess  that  we  have  bac^   a  trifling  disagreement  thi 
nominff' 


\ 


HARRIED    LIFEu 


jitt  Ood.  How  delightful ! — Coddle,  why  don't  you  go  jjito  a  (;as«iob, 
and  knock  nie  down  \ 

Cod.  My  dear,  if  I  were  to  go  into  a  passion,  and  suddenly  cool,  aa  I 
know  I  should,  the  checking  of  the  perspiration  would  be  the  death  of 
me — I  should  die. 

Re-enter  Lynx,  dresssed  for  walking: 

Lynx.  Good  morning,  my  friends !  I  am  going  to  leave  you  ;  6  »n1 
jou  hurry  away  on  my  account. 

Mr».  Ly.  There's  no  necessity  for  that ;  I  shall  be  alone  the  w'  >!'• 
di'y. 

Mrs.  Cod.  [^To  Mrs.  Lynx.]  Ah  !  you  are  a  happy  woman  in  i  o«- 
seissing  such  a  husband  !  Look  at  him.  Coddle  ;  observe  his  mannt  — 
his  air.     Why  don't  you  dress  in  that  fashion  1 

Cod.  Me  !  as  thinly  clad  as  Mr.  Lynx  is  now. — would  you  see  m*  bt 
my  grave  ?     Ugh!  I  shudder  to  look  at  him. 

Mrs.  Cod.  I'm  sorry  that  you  are  going  out.  [T'o  Lynx.]  I  thouj^I<> 
to  have  passed  a  very  pleasant  morning  in  your  society. 

Mis.  Ly.  [^Aside.'\   I'm  certain  there's  an  understanding  between  them 

[  Watchmg  them  with  suspicion 

Mrs.  Cod.  \_To  Lynx.]  A  word  with  you.  {She  whisyers  Lymx,  aiu 
laughs.]  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  it  would  be  very  droll,  now — would  it  not'' 

Lynx.  Ha!  ha  I  very,  indeed. 

Mrs.  God.  I  shall  endeavor 

Lynx.  Do,  do — rely  upon  me.     Ha  I  ha  ! 

Mrs.  Cod.   Ha  !  ha  I  ha  ! 

Lynx.  Adieu,  my  friends,  adieu.  Good  morning,  Mrs  L.  If  1  dfl 
a  t  return  by  five,  you  need  not  expect  me  till  late. — Adieu.       Exit,  b. 

Mrs.  Ly.  May  I  ask,  madam,  why  you  whispered  my  husband^ 

Mrs.  Cod.  A  mere  matter  of  pleasantry. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Indeed  ! 

Mrs.  Cod  He's  the  most  charming  creature  living,  is  that  h><sbani 
of  yours.     I  wish  my  poor  drone  was  like  him. 

Mrs.  Ly.   I  should  be  sorry  to  make  your  husband  unhappy,  madam 

Mrs.  Cod.    Do,  do — make  him  wretched,  there's  a  love — but  for  once 

Mrs.  Ly.  I  don't  comprehend  you,  madam — I  can  only  observe,  thai 
your  conduct  to  my  husband,  a  moment  since,  was  as  ill-mannered  as  'i 
•Pemed  suspicious, 

\ir».  Cod.   He's  a  fine  spirited  man. 

[Looking  at  Coddle,  who  is  busy  wrapping  himself  closely  up. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Indeed  !  pray,  madam,  what  might  be  the  subject  of  yom 
whispers  ] 

Mrs.  Cod.  I  never  betray  confidence. 

Mis.  Ly.  Surely  you  are  not  that  base  woman,  who,  under  the  mask 
of  frirndship,  seeks  to  ruin  my  peace!  I  have  watched  vour  behavioi 
before,  madam,  and  I  am  now  convinced  there  is  some  secret  corre- 
■ponilence  Lieiween  you  and  my  husband  ;  and  b-^-*  Mr.  Coddle  ran  sii 
loere,  and  afllect  to  be  blind  to  your  actions,  I  ani  at  a  loss  to  cotxeive 

Ood.  Blind — I  affect  to  be  blind — what  in  there  to  see,  madam  \ 


fO  MARRIED    LIFE. 

Mrt.  Cod.  [Aside.]  This  is  delicious  ; — if  CodJle  WLild  but  listen  t« 
her. 

Mrs.  Ly.  What  is  there  to  see  1 — quit  my  house,  and  from  this  mo- 
ment I  truFt  that  neither  of  you  will  enter  it  again. 

Cod.  WL^  have  we  done  1 

Mrs  Ly  [To  Mes.  Coddle.]  I  look  upon  you,  madam,  as  a  danger 
«v'iB  woman. 

Cod    So  she  is,  my  night-caps  are  never  thoroughly  aired. 

Mn.  Ly.  And  if  your  husband  can  countenance  your  conduct,  I'm 
1  t  &j  Ijst  to  every  sense  of  self-respect  as  to  submit  to  it 

Mrs.  Cod.  Bless  me,  Mrs.  Lynx,  what  do  you  mean  1 

Cod.  [Coming  between  them.^  Don't,  don't,  pray  don't  excite  me;  if 
you  get  to  words  I  must  interfere,  and  any  interference,  at  this  mome*it, 
might  be  fatal. 

Mrs.  Ly  I  shall  not  attempt  to  explain  my  insinuations — I  oiily 
desire  that  you  will  leave  me  to  myself,  and  that  your  visits  here  may 
be  less  frequent. 

Mrs.  Cod.  Doii't  you  stir  from  this  house.  Coddle,  till  you  are  per- 
fectly convinced  of  the  baseness  of  her  imiendos.  Be  jealous,  and  de- 
mand an  explanation  ;  if  you  don't  f'U  tear  the  list  from  all  the  doors  at 
home. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Will  you  compel  me  to  r"ng  the  belli 

Mrs.  Cod.  Go  into  a  rage,  Mr.  Coddle. 

Cod  I  can't.  [Mrs.  Lynx  throws  open  a  window,  e.]  My  love,  we  are 
in  a  thorough  draught ;  that  woman  wants  to  destroy  me.  Let  us 
leave  the  house,  if  you  wish  to  see  me  alive  an  hour  hence.  Be  satis- 
fied— I'll  call  on  Mr.  Lynx,  and  demand  an  explanation. 

Mrs.  Cod    But  one  word  more 

Cod.  No,  no,  not  one.  Come,  my  dear,  I've  the  rheumatics  in  my  right 
«houlder  already — I  tremble  from  head  to  foot — I've  taken  cold,  and 
fou'U  have  to  nurse  me  for  a  month.     Come,  dear,  come. 

[Exit  L.,  dragging  off  Mrs.  Coddle 

Mrs.  Ly.  [Falling  into  a  chair. '\  Wretched  woman  that  I  am,  whj 
^id  I  ever  give  power  to  any  man  so  to  torment  mel  I'll  now  follow 
Mr.  Lynx,  and  enjoy  his  disappointment 

Mrs.  Cod.  [  \Vithoul.'\  Don  t  send  up  your  name  at  present,  the  poor 
creature  is  in  a  rabid  state. 

Mrs.  Y.   [Heard  without.]  Mrs.  Lynx  won't  mind  us. 

Mrs  Ly  [Looking  off.  h.]  Who  is  this  1  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Younghus 
band? — how  provoking — just  as  I'm  going  out.  What  can  bring  them 
hcrei — they  are  a  couple  that  I  can't  endure;  though  married  but  three 
months,  they  are  perpetually  contradicting  and  annoying  each  othei 
if,  now,  they  had  suffered  the  five  years  of  matrimony  that  I  have,  there 
Might  be  some  excu.se  for  them  ;  but  to  d  sagree  so  early  in  their  careei 
k  sad  indeed. 

Enter  Mr.  and  Mrs.  FounghcsB/.nd.  :.. 

Mrs  Y  [Running  to  Mrs  Lynx,  and  taking  both  her  hands  ]  Ho-w 
do  yo":  do,  dear  1  don't  mind  me  and  Y,  coming  in  so  unceremoniouslj 
— we  have  called  to  give  fou  some  information. 


MARRIED    LIFB.  li 

toung.  How  can  you  talk  so  absurdly,  Louisa  f  we  tiave  not  called 
to  giye  Mrs.  Lynx  any  information. 

Mrs.  Y.  For  what,  then  1 

Young.  Merely  to  tell  her  that  a  person  wishes  to  iee  her. 

Mrs.  Y.   Well,  that  is  information. 

Young.  No.  it  isn't. 

Mrs.  Y    Yes  it  is. 

Young.   How  can  that  be  ? 

Mrs  Y.  To  tell  any  body  of  any  matter,  is  to  inform  them  ;  and  to 
inform  people  is,  of  course,  to  give  them  information.  How  you  do  con- 
tradict me  ! 

Mrs.  Ly.  What  then,  is  the  information  that  you  bring  me? 

Mrs.  Y.  There,  you  hear,  sir,  Mrs.  Lynx  allows  it  to  be  information. 

Young.  It  can't  be. 

Mrs.  Y.  But  it  is. 

Young.  It  isn't ;  you  have  not  informed  Mrs.  Lynx  of  any  thing  yet. 

Mrs.  Y.  I  should  have  uone  so,  if  you  had  not  interrupted  and  con- 
tradicted me,  as  you  always  do. 

Young.  Allow  me  lo  tell  Mrs.  Lynx.  You  must  know,  madam. 
ihat  some  years  ago,  my  wife  was  sent  to  the  boarding-school  of  Mrs. 
Dove,  in  Sussex 

Mrs.  Y.  No,  it  was  in  Kent. 

Young.  In  Sussex. 

Mrs.  Y.  In  Kent,  I  tell  you. 

Young    If  you  aggravate  me  in  this  manner,  I'll  go  home  again. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Well— well. 

Mrs.  Y.  Last  night,  at  a  friend's  house,  we  accidentally  met  Mr.  anc 
Mrs.  Dove — when  she  informed  us  that  she  had  given  up  her  school, 
and  was  now  in  London  for  the  purpose  of  collecting  some  old  debts, 
and  amongst  the  sames  of  the  persons  that  she  had  to  call  on,  was  that 
of  Mr.  Lynx 

Mrs.  Ly.  My  husband  1 

Mrs.  Y.  Your  husband. 

Young.  Louisa,  how  can  you  ?  why  will  you  thus  agitate  Mrs.  Lynxl 
You  are  not  sure  the  Mr.  Lynx,  that  Mrs.  Dove  is  looking  for,  is  the 
husband  of  our  friend  ;  we  merely  surmised  that  it  was. 

Mrs.  Y.  I  tell  you,  I'm  certain  it  is  the  same. 

Young.  You  are  not. 

Mrs   Y.  I  am. 

Young.  It  can't  be  the  same. 

Mrs.  Y.  It  is. 

Young.   It  isn't. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Now,  pray  don't  trifle  with  me  ;  think  of  my  dreadful  •u*' 
vense  ;  think  of  my  feelings  at  this  moment. 

Mrs.  Y.  Mrs.  Dove  is  now  below,  with  her  husband  ;  shall  I  ask  hei 
»o  walk  up  1 — then  she  can  relate  this  strange  circumstance  herself. 

'^oung.  You  ought  tirst  to  tell  Mrs.  Lynx,  whj  and  what  the  p«opl« 
tie,  before  you  intr-xi'Tce  them  to  her. 

Mrs.  Y.  There  ip  %/">  necessity  for  it. 

Young.  There  im. 


il  ILIRRISD    liin. 

Mr  I.  Y.  There  isn't. 

Young.  I  tell  you  there  is. 

Mn.  Ly.  Yes,  yes — pray  tell  me. 

Mrt.  Y.  Well,  then — Mrs.  Dove,  you  must  know,  was  a  widow,  arntf 
formerly  the  mistress  of  a  large  boarding-school ;  but  has  now  retired, 
after  marrying  her  footman.  They  are  the  oddest  couple  you  ever  mel 
with.  She  is  perpetually  drilling  her  husband  into  politeness  and  cor 
rect  pronunciation,  which  the  poor  man  will  never  comprehend  as  long 
aa  he  lives.  Oh.  had  you  but  seen  them  last  night !  Whenever  a  oell 
rang,  poor  Mr.  Dove  could  scarcely  help  starting  from  his  chair,  and 
running  to  attend  to  it ;  and  could  only  be  checked  by  the  alarming  eyea 
of  Mrs.  Dove.  Ha  !  ha  ! — Oh,  those  eyes — how  they  did  remmd  mo 
of  my  school-days  !  just  the  looks  that  she  used  to  dart  at  us  poor  refrac- 
tory girls. 

Young.  My  dear,  why  don't  you  keep  to  that  portion  of  the  narrative 
most  interesting  to  Mrs.  Lynx  ;  she  don't  want  to  hear  of  great  eyc« 
and  refractory  girU 

Mrs.  Y.  I  am  sure  I  have  mentioned  all  that  is  necessary. 

Young.   You  have  not. 

Mrs.  Y.  I  have. 

Young.  You  have  not. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Ask  them  to  walk  up,  I  shall  then  be  satisfied. 

Mrs.  Y.  \_CaUing.'\  Step  up,  Mrs.  Dove,  and  bring  your  husband 
with  you. 

Young.  There  is  no  necessity  for  calling  up  Mr.  Dove. 

Mrs.  Y.  There  is. 

Young.  There  isn't 

Mrs.  Y.  There  is. 

Young.  They  are  here  ;  don't  make  a  noise 

Mrs.  Y.  'Twas  you  that  made  the  noise. 

Young.  'Twas  not. 

Mrs.  Y.  It  was. 

Enter  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dove. 

Mrs.  Y.  Mrs.  Lynx — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dove.  Will  you  be  kind  enough 
to  relate  to  Mrs.  Lynx  the  purport  of  your  inquiry  f 

Mrs.  Dove.  The  purport  of  my  inquiry  is  to  ascertain,  whether  the 
Vir.  Lynx,  that  I  am  informed  is  residing  here,  is  the  identical  pemjB 
k\\o,  two  years  ago  placed  a  young  lady  under  my  care? 

Mrs.  Ly.  A  young  lady  !  My  husband  place  a  young  lady  undej 
^our  care  ? 

Young  Nay,  madam,  before  you  distress  yourself,  you  had  better  L« 
Uisured  that  the  Mr.  Lynx  alluded  to  is  your  husband. 

Mrs.  Dove.  The  gentleman's  christian  cognomen  was  Lionel. 

Dove    Lionel  Lynx,  Esquire. 

Mrs.   Dove.  Silence,  my  dear  ! 

Dove  That  is  what  was  on  the  trunk  he  sent  to  our  house  ;  that's  aH 
I  know,  my  precious. 

Mrs  Ly.  The  name  is  perfectly  correct. 

iff*  Dove.  I  was  told  that  he  had  been  in  the  army— 


MARRIED    LIFE.  13 

Urt    Lt,    Righ  ,  madam, 

Mrs   Dove.   But  had  sole  his  commission,  and  ■  cos  narrieJ. 

Mrs.  Ly.  You  are  right,  madam — it  is  the  same ;  there  is  not  tha 
ihghtest  shadow  of  a  doubt  but  'tis  the  same  ; — and  this  person  that  be 
placed  with  you,  what  was  she  1 

Mrs  Dove.  A  young  lady  of  great  personal  attractions. 

Mrs    Ly.   Ha! 

Dove    She  played  the  harp  diwinely. 

Mis.  Dove.   Divinely,  dear;  think  of  your  v's. 

Dove.   Hang  them  ice's  ;   I  shall  never  get  over 'em. 

Mrs.  Dove.  She  was  placed  at  my  establishment,  not  so  mucii  with 
a  view  to  education,  as  with  reference  to  the  meeting  with  a  comforta 
b.e  and  respectable  home  at  a  moderate  charge. 

Dove.  A  hundred  a  year,  and  bring  your  own  silver  knife,  fork,  spoon, 
and  six  towels  ! 

Mrs.  Dove.   Hush,  love,  we  must  forget  the  school  now  ! 

Mrs.  Ly.  I  never  heard  of  this.     Who  could  the  girl  have  been 
What  was  her  age  1 

Mrs.  Dove.  At  that  time,  seventeen. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Her  name  1 

Mrs.  Dove.  Harriet  Seymour. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Where  is  she  now  1 

Mrs.  Dove.  That  question  I  am  quite  incompetent  to  answer — sn« 
resided  with  me  a  year  and  a  half,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  suddenly 
disappeared. 

Dove.  We  think  she  eloped,  for  every  now  and  then  somebody  used 
to  come  and  sing  under  the  window,  to  such  a  degree  that  all  the  girU 
in  the  house  went  raving  mad. 

Mrs.  Duve.  Silence,  dear. 

Dove.  Yes,  darling. 

Mrs  Dove.  At  the  time  of  the  young  lady's  disappearance  there  re- 
mained a  small  balance  in  my  favor  on  her  account,  for  extras,  and  ot 
which  I  think  it  probable  that  Mr.  Lynx  is  not  aware. 

Dave.  Eight  pound  odd. 

Mrs.  Dove.   Pounds,  dear;  speak  in  the  plural. 

Dofoe.  Pounds,  love. 

Mrs.  Ly.  I'm  in  a  maze — bewildered.  Who  can  this  girl  have  been  t 
Did  she — did  she  seem  attached  to  him  1 

Mrs.  Dove.  Very. 

Dove.  He  called  once,  and  I  happened  to  enter  the  room  quite  pro- 
miscuously where  they  was — 

Mrs   Dove.  Where  they  were  ;   I  was — they  were. 

Dove  Where  they  were ;  and  I  saw  the  young  lady  a  dissolvinf^ 
away  mt>/  tears  upon  his  shoulder.  I  was  then  Mrs.  Dove's  foofc 
man  ! 

Jtfff.  Dove.  Henry. 

Dove.  Martha  I 

Mrs.  Dove.   How  often  have  I  told  you  ne^er  to  touch 

Dove.  Oh,  la  !     Ah,  I  forgot 

Mrs  Ly.  'Twas  eome  victim  to  his  vilianv,  no  doubt,     lloyi  to  dU 


14  MARRIED    LIFB. 

soTer  the  myitery — how  to  come  upon  him,  when  he  may  be  anprajA 
red  for  equivocation  !  I  have  it,  my  friends.  [To  Ma.  and  Mes.  Ycurw'"- 
husband]  If  you  should  meet  Mr.  Lynx,  let  me  implore  you  not  t« 
oreathe  a  syllable  of  this  matter  to  him  ;  let  me  be  the  first  to  tell  him. 
Pray  oblige  me  by  dining  here  to-morrow.  \To  Mr.  and  Mus.  Dovk.] 
You  shall  then  be  introduced  to  my  husband  ;  and  should  it  indeed  I* 
.he  person  who  placed  that  girl  under  your  care,  he  cannot  dare  to  deny 
it.  You,  my  friends,  [To  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Y.]  will  also  be  here— nay,  1 
will  invite  every  soul  that  I  am  acquainted  with,  and  publicly  expose  hi* 
riUany. 

Mrs.  Dove,  We  will  do  ourselves  that  honor. 

Mm.  Ly.  To-morrow,  at  five. 

Mrs.  Dove.  We  shall  be  punctual,  madam. 

Dove.  \^Aside  to  Mrs.  D.]  You  said  you'd  take  me  to  the  i/eMJologicai 
Gardens. 

Mrs.  Dove.  We  must  defer  it,  my  dear.  \_Aside  to  Dotk. 

Dove.  That's  the  way  you  always  serve  me ;  you  never  promiae  t« 
take  me  anywhere,  but  I  am  continually  disappointed. 

Mrs.  Dove.   Pointed  ! 

Dove.  Pointed.  You  use  me  shameful,  dear. 

Mrs.  Dove.  Don't  be  an  idiot,  love. 

Dove    You're  a  brute,  precious 

Mrs.  Dove.  Henry  !  [Looking  fiercely  at  htm 

Dpve.  Oh,  them  eyes — I  never  can  answer  'em. 

Mrs.  Dove    Then  to-morrow  at  five,  Mrs.  Lynx. 

Mrs.  Ly.  I  shall  rely  on  you  being  here — you  will  not  disappoint 
mel — 

Mrs.  Dove.  Certainly  not.  Good  morning  Madam.  Now,  Henry, 
your  arm. 

Mrs   Ly.  The  servant  shall  see  you  to  the  door. 

[Mrs.  Lvnx  •pulls  a  hell-rope  hanging  by  the  side  of  the  fire-place;  a 
bell  rings.  Dove  suddenly  starts,  and  is  running  confusedly  as  tf 
to  answer  it,  when  Mrs.  Dove  checks  him. 

Mrs.  Dove.  My  lamb,  you  forget  yourself. 

Dove  Deuce  take  them  bells,  I  never  can  hear  one  without  running 
io  answer  it. 

Mrs.  Dove.  Good  morning.  Mrs  Lynx  ;  good  morning,  madam  ;  good 
Morning,  sir.  [Curlesying  profoundly  to  each.]  Now,  my  dear,  [^Aside  ta 
Do  rE.]  don't  forget  to  leave  the  room  like  a  gentleman. 

[They  approach  the  i.  door,  when  they  both  make  api'found  obeisance, 
and  go  off.  Mrs.  Lynx  falls  in  a  chai^^  hiding  her  face  in  ker 
hands. 

Mrs.  Y.  My  deal  Mrs.  Lynx,  pray  don't  allow  this  raatter  to  affect 
r~>n  so  seriously. 

i'jung.  Louisa,  why  do  you  check  the  feelings  of  our  friend  ?  you 
angbl  to  bo  aware  that  tears  are  a  great  relief  when  one  u  Buffering 
from  menial  agination. 

Mrs.  Y.  No,  thc}  a'r  t ;  a  pretty  relief,  inded,  to  break  one's  heart 
with  cry'tig. 


MARRIED    LIFB.  IS 

Tounff.  It  is  a  tclief. 

Mrs.  y.  No,  it  isn't — how  do  you  know  1 — you  never  ciy,  yoa  bar 
tened  creature 

Young.  I  prefer  preserving  my  tears  for  a  certain  event. 

Mrs.  Y.  Ah  !  when  you  lose  me? 

Young.  Yes.  dear. 

Mrs.  Y.  That's  the  kindest  thing  you  have  said  since  OT>r  marriaf* 

Your^.  No,  it  isn't. 

Mrt.  Y.  Yes,  it  la. 

Young.   It  isn't. 

Mrs    Y.  It  i«. 

Mrs.  Ly.  My  dear  friends — pray  cease  your  bickering 

Mn    Y.   He  will  always  contradict  me. 

Mrs.  Ly.  If  you  meet  my  husband,  pray  be  silent  on  this  matlei  ^nd 
be  here  to-morrow,  I  beg  ;  and  should  I  be  compelled  to  take  a  despe- 
rate resource  to  conquer  the  feelings  that  now  consume  me  yAi  will 
know  how  to  pit}'  and  to  pardon  me.  [She  sinks  intn  a  chair 

Mrs.  Y.  Come,  Frederick,  we'll  soon  leave  poor  Mrs.  I^yni.  ,  people 
don't  like  to  have  their  sorrows  intruded  upon. 

Young.  We  ought  rather  to  stay  and  console  her. 

Mrs.  Y.  A  charming  consoler  you  are — how  did  you  console  va* 
yesterday,  when  that  frightful  bonnet  was  sent  homel 

Young.  'Twas  your  own  taste. 

Mrs.  Y.  It  was  not. 

Young.  You  insisted  upon  having  a  fall  of  blond  in  the  front  ofst 

Mrs.  Y.  That  is  the  thing  I  detest. 

Youns.  It  is  the  very  thing  that  you  ordered. 

Mrs.  Y  When  I  tried  it  on,  you  told  me  that  I  never  looked  u 
frightful  in  all  my  life. 

Young.  I  didn't 

Mrs.  Y.  You  did — I'll  bum  it  when  I  go  home. 

Young.  Indeed  you  sliall  not. 

Mrs.  Y.  I  will — and  I'll  wear  my  dirty  yellow  one  to  vex  vou. 

l^Exit,  L. 

Young.  Louisa  !  how  can  you  be  so  absurd  ]  Louisa,  why  don't  you 
wait  for  me  \ — you're  the  most  aggravating  woman  I  ever  met  with. 

Mrs.  Y.  [  Without.^  I  shall  go  home  alone. 

Young.  You  shall  not.  \^Rushng  out  l 

Mrs.  Y.  I  will.  [  Without 

Younsr.  You  shall  not.  [  WilhciU 

Mrs.  Y.  I  will. 

Young.   You  shall  not. 

Mrs.  Y.  I  hate  you. 

Young.  You  don't. 

Mrs.  Y.  I  do. 

Young.  You  don't. 

Mrs.  Y.  I  do. 

[The  voices  of  Mr   ond  Mrs.  Younghusband  zre  henrd  contradiet 
ing  each  other,  till  they  gradually  cease. 
Mrs.  Ly.  I  surely  never  fell,  the  passion  of  jealousy,  till  this  moment 


16  MARRIED    LIFA. 

all  mj  pa«t  suspicions  have  been  mere  faults  of  temper  compared  witli 
the  testlessiiess,  tiie  wretched  thoughts,  and  sinking  of  the  heart  that  1 
now  endure.  Who  can  this  girl  be  ]  Where  is  she  now  1  He  know» 
full  well — no  doubt  he  visits  her — may  be  at  this  moment  in  her  society 
I'll  leave  the  house — him — all — for  this  agony  is  more  than  I  can  bear 
[She  is  rushing  out  l.,  when  Lynx  appear  t 

Lynx.  Where  are  you  going  in  such  haste  1 

Mrs.  Ly.   [^Controlling  her  feelings.^  So  soon  returned. 

Lynx.  I  had  forgotten  my  purse. 

[  Going  to  desk,  on  a  table  up  the  »<• 

Mrs.  Ly.  I  hope  you  have  been  gratified  by  your  walk  1 

Lynx.   Yes,  perfectly. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Of  course  you  were  not  so  much  annoyed  at  your  disi»» 
pointment,  but  you  sought  amends  in  some  more  certain  amusement  ' 

Lynx.  Yes,  dear — I  returned  to  you. 

Mrs.  Ly.  You  little  thought  that  your  note  of  assignation — your  not* 
>f  "  mere  business,"  was  written  by  me. 

Lynx.  It  was,  ehl  And  pray,  what  end  has  the  paltry  trick  in- 
Bwered  ? 

Mrs.  Ly.  Your  immediate  attention  to  it  has  convinced  me  of  youi 
perfidy. 

Lynx.  Indeed!     Could  you  think  of  no  better  plan  to  convict  me  ' 

[  Takins  a  chnir 

Mrs.  Ly.  I  have  little  occasion  to  tax  my  invention  further,  sir ;  1 
now  feel  quite  assured  of  my  misery. 

Lynx.  Of  what  misery  ! 

Mrs.  Ly.  The  possession  of  a  husband,  who  practices  concealment 
[Aside.'\  \  did  not  intend  to  breathe  a  syllable  of  what  ''  have  hoard ; 
but  I  Co.nnot  resist.  I  must  tell  him — perhaps  he  ma  be  guiltless. 
Lionel !  is  the  name  of  Harriet  Seymour  known  to  you  1 

Lynx.  [^Starling  from  his  seat.]  Who  has  dared  to  utt'  ■  that  name  to 
you  1  who  has  dared  to  breathe  a  word  of  that  person  ] 

Mrft.  Ly.  Ha!  now  I  am,  indeed,  firmly — wretchedly  convinced 
What,  sir !  your  agitation  leaves  you  defenceless  ? — Where  are  youi 
arts — your  falsehoods — your  equivocations,  now? 

Z  unx.    Who  has  been  here  ] 

M's.  Ly.  I  shall  not  name. 

Lynx.   By  heaven,  you  shall !  [Seizing  her  arm. 

Mrs.  Ly  Hold,  sir!  would  you  use  violence?  Would  you  conctal 
your  shame  by  raoe  !  Listen  to  me!  Ere  I  quite  decide  upon  my 
Sourse,  I  will  give  you  one  opportunity  of  justifying  yourself — one 
chance  of  a  full  and  fair  explanation.  Promise  me  to  be  at  home  to- 
moirnw, — I  will  not,  in  the  mean  time,  allude  to  this  matter,  by  a  single 
Wjrd  ;  no,  no — till  then,  I  will  conquer  my  feelings  and  be  silent.  I 
■hail  be  sorry  to  proceed  in  the  revenge  that  I  contemplate;  but  should 
I  ha\e  cause — remember,  'twas  your  own  hand  that  cast  down  the  fire- 
brand here ;  and  if  I  do  take  it  up,  and  set  the  home  of  our  happinesi 
vn  flames,  you  alone  are  to  blame,  [Exit,  k 

Lynx.   What  can  she  mean  ?    Does  she  threaten  me  with  retaliation 
>\Tjo  call  have  been  here — through  what  channel  can  she  have  heaid' 


MARRIUO    LIFE.  I 

B&t  I  must  avoid  all  explanation;    I  dare  not  revra    au^tt  connect* 
with  that  unhappy  girl. 

Enter  Coddle,  l. 

Cod.  Excuse  my  coming  in  so  unceremoniously — I  knew  you  wert 
here — I  saw  you  come  home — merely  called  to  oblige  Mrs.  Coddia. 
There's  that  window  still  open  ;  permit  me  to  shut  it  [Zfe  crosses  to  B., 
tnd  pulls  down  the  vnndow.]  Mrs.  Lynx  has  hinted  to  my  wife  that  a 
^miliarity  exists  between  you  and  her,  and  one  that  I  ought  not  to  shut 
my  eyes  to  ;  now,  I  candidly  confess  that  I  have  opened  them  as  wide  aa 
I  can,  and  what  Mrs.  Lynx  can  possibly  mean,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  guess. 
But  entirely  to  oblige  my  wife,  1  call  here,  at  the  risk  of  my  life — as  I 
did  not  intend  to  come  out  any  more  to-day — to  ask,  if  such  a  familiarity 
really  exists  1  Mrs.  Coddle  demands  it.  for  my  own  satisfaction.  If  I 
am  not  satisfied,  she  insists  on  my  fighting  you  ;  and  if  I  am  satisfied 
she  is  determined  to  make  Mrs.  Lynx  beg  her  pardon.  Now  what  is  to 
be  done  1 

Lynx.  My  dear  sir,  you  well  know  the  temper  of  my  wife,  and  the 
pains  that  she  takes  to  make  herself  wretched.  Be  assured  that  her  sus- 
picions are  groundless. 

Cod.  I  know  they  are ;  and  I  am  convinced  it  has  all  originated  in 
my  wife's  anxiety  to  excite  me. 

Lynx.  A  word  with  you.  \_Bringing  Coddle  forward.^  I  left  you 
here  when  I  went  out  this  morning — did  any  one  call  during  your  stay'' 

Cod.  No  one  but  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Younghusband. 

Lynx.  lAside.]  Surely  they  can't  have  heard — no — no  ;  yet  they  may. 
Ha  !  a  thought  strikes  me.  Sir,  you  have  more  than  professed  a  friend- 
ship for  me] 

Cod  And  have  proved  it,  too.  Didn't  I  visit  you  every  week,  whei. 
you  lodged  in  that  airy  situation  at  Hampstead  ! 

Lynx.  My  wife  has,  by  some  means  yet  unknown  to  myself,  discov 
ered  my  connexion  with  a  young  female. 

Cod.  Oh,  you  villain  !  why  don't  you  wear  a  Welsh  wig?  you  woulc 
escape  all  these  troubles,  then. 

Lynx.   I  am  compelled  to  avoid  all  explanation  respecting  her. 

Cod,  Well! 

Lynx.  'Tis  in  your  power  to  relieve  me  fiom  my  embarrassment. 

Cod.  In  what  way  ! 

Lynx.  This  young  female,  I,  some  time  since,  placed  at  a  csuntrj 
school  for  protection 

Cod.  Vou  rogue ! 

Lym    She  disappeared,  and  all  trace  of  her  had  been  lost. 

Cod    Well! 

T  ynx    My  wife  has  this  moment  mentioned  her  name. 

Vod.  Then,  of  course,  she  has  discovered  your  trick  1 

Lynx.  Yon  must  publicly  declare  this  girl  to  be  your  own 

Coa.  What! 

Lynx.  Your  own  daughter — and  that  to  save  your  set  el,  i  uodei 
VHik  her  charge. 

Cod.  Bless  you  !  what  would  Mrs.  Coddle  say  '     My  dear  boy,  sheV 


18  MARRIED    LIFE. 

murdc.  me      T  could  not  support  such  an  assertion  for  fie  world    aow 
could  1  ever  look  in  my  wife's  face  afterwards  ? 

Lynx     Willi  more  confidence  than  were  she  to  know 

Cod    What"! 

[LvN\   whispers  Coddle,  who  sluggers  back  to  a  chair,  in  gruu 
alwm. 

Cod.   I  m  a  dead  man. 

Ly7,t  I  am  in  possession  of  more  than  you  thought  for,  Mr.  Coddle 
(<.*w,  sir,  you  see  the  plot  is  not  one  of  such  very  great  difficulty  tc 
»iecute.     If  you  will  no.  assist  me,  I  must  proclaim 

Cod.  Noi  a  word,  on  your  life — plunge  me  into  a  cold  hath,  make 
aae  sleep  a  whole  night  on  the  top  of  the  Monument — compel  me  tc 
do  anything  for  which  I  have  a  horror — hut  breathe  not  a  word  oi  tkoA 

of  that 

Lynx.   Do  then,  as  I  request. 

Cod.  I  will — I  swear  it — there [Falling  on  hit  knees. 

Lynx.  iJjive  my  secret,  and  I  will  preserve  yours. 

END    OF    ACT    I.  i 

ACT  ri. 

(fOENE  \. — An  apartment  in  the  house  of  Mr.  Coddle  ;  windows  &l  tk* 
back  V  th  curtains  ;  the  doors  are  ed>^ed  with  list  and  leather.  Table 
and  ciairs  ;  an  easy  chair  in  the  centre  of  the  stage  ;  Mas.  Coddle  dis- 
covtieu  at  the  table,  a  note  in  her  hand. 

Mrr.  Cod.  How  very  odd  !  how  very  strange  !  though  this  note  arri- 
ved Ust  night,  I  have  scarcely  done  anything  since  but  read  it.  [Heads  ] 
"  My  dear  Mrs.  Coddle,  pray  pardon  the  warmth  of  my  temper,  that  lea 
me  to  use  certain  expressions  to  you,  of  which,  at  the  time,  I  was  not 
conscious  ;  though  now,  on  recollec-tion  of  them,  I  express  my  sorrow. 
Forgive  me,  and  dine  with  u«  at  five  to-morrow  ;  do  not  disappoint  me 
on  your  life,  as  I  have  a  strong  reason  for  inviting  you  ;  bring  Coddle 
with  you,  of  course.  Sincerely  yours,  Emmeline  Links."  What  a 
strange  woman  I  who  would  suppose,  that  yesterday,  she  desired  me  tc 
quit  tlie  house  and  never  enter  there  again.  Well,  I'm  resolved  to  go. 
What  a  length  of  lime  Coddle  lakes  for  dressing  ;  'tis  now  half-past  four, 
»nd  I  have  been  ready  this  hour.  [She  knocks  at  r.  d.]  Coddle,  you 
J'ofie   make  haste. 

i'dd  [  IVi/lnn.]  1  shall  be  ready  immediately  ;  I  am  now  putting  on 
sny  f.iuilh  waistcoat. 

Mis  Cod.  And  he  vears  six.  liovf  the  man  can  exist  in  such  a  state 
I  know  not ;  and  what  is  the  matter  with  him,  I  am  equally  at  a  loss  to 
guess  ;  he  has  been  overpowered  with  nervous  agitation  and  ki  a  high 
fever  ali  *he  morning  ;  has  been  talking  in  his  sleep  all  night  I  could 
only  catch  the  words  '*  Don't — I'll  say  anything — declare  aLything — but 
don't."  The  man  has  something  on  his  mind  ;  what  can  it  be  !  H« 
surely  can't  have  committed  any  crime — ?  rjlbery  or  a  tsurder  1  Oh, 
tfae  monster  1     I  must  question  him. 


MAKhlED    LIFB.  19 

£,nter  Coddie,  r  d.,  drestcd  for  c  dinner  party 
^  «\\,  my  dear,  are  you  better  ! 

Jorf.  Not  much — I  feel  very  faint. 

}fr«  Cod.  Give  me  your  hand.  [Coddle  presents  his  hand  tinnily.\ 
Dear — dear — what  a  burning  fever  you  are  in — your  hands  are  like  hv« 
ro^is  ;  and  what  a  pulse  !  \_Fecling  his  pulse.]  Heavens,  Samuel  '—jvi 
3  re  ill. 

Cod.  I  am. 

iVr«  Ood.  And  the  cause  is  not  so  much  bodily  infirmity  aa  aieiiU 
Owsiety. 

C':d.  Lord  ! — do  vou — do  you  think  so  ! 

Mrs.  Cod.  You  are  fainting;   let  me  open  the  wmdows. 

Cod.  No — no — not  for  worlds. 

Mrs  Cod.  What  has  caused  this  fever  1 

Cod.   I — I — ilon't  know 

Mrs.  Cud.  Coddle,  your  mind  is  diseased. 

Cod.  My  dear,  dont  speak  to  me  in  that  fierce  manner,  you  make  a< 
».-fmble  from  head  to  foot. 

Mrs.  Cod.  You  pass'd  a  wretched  night 

Cod.   I  did. 

Mrs.  Cod.  You  talk'd  in  your  sleep. 

Cod.  No  !   [Alarmed:]  Did  1  ;  what  did  I  say  1 

Mrs.  Cod.  Sufficient  to  rouse  my  suspicions. 

Cod.  I  have  been  criminating  myself ;  'twas  while  I  was  dream  ng  of 
I  jing  hanged.  \^Aside.\   ^\'hat  vhU  become  of  me  1 

Mrs.  Cod.  Tell  me — what  is  this,  matter  that  has  so  suddenly  discon 
,.«rtedyou^ 

Cod.  Ah  ! — she  don't  know — I  breathe  again. 

Mrs.  Cod.  Answer  me,  sir  ;  what  have  you  done  1 

Cod    I — I — left  off  my  life-preserving  under-waistcoat,  yesterday. 

Mrs  Cod.  B  »se  equivocator — you  shall  have  no  rest,  depend  upon  it, 
till  I  am  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  cause  of  your  agitation.  I  have 
watched  your  uctioiis,  sir,  more  than  you  are  aware  of;  'tis  something 
in  which  Mr.  Lynx  is  concerned  ;  I  observed  you,  when  you  retui  led 
from  his  houee  yesterday,  you  came  home  quite  an  altered  man — jou 
that  were  not  to  be  roused  by  anything  that  did  not  interfere  with  youi 
own  immediale  comfort,  seemed  suddenly  to  have  changed  your  nature; 
the  servant  left  your  room  door  open,  unchecked  ;  a  broken  pane  close 
to  your  eat  escaped  your  notice  ;  you  ate  no  supper;  you  ordered  no  fire 
m  your  be<'  room  ;  and  your  sleep  was  disturbed  by  sighs  and  groans, 
a)id  worln  ff  guilt.  Ha  !  \  have  made  you  tremble  ;  now,  sir,  I  shaJJ 
leave  y  j,  and  in  the  meantime  you  will  do  well  to  prepare  for  a  coi.fe» 
»ion  that  I  am  resolved  to  wring  from  you.  [Aside.]  I  have  shaken  hia 
trom  his  Ie\hargy  at  last.  [Exit,  l 

Cod  1  am  a  lost  man  ;  1  knew  my  day  of  reckoning  would  arrive 
Mary  sii>ipccts  something,  that  s  clear — um  ' — and  I'm  going  out  to  din 
ner,  to.i.  What  a  dinner  it  will  be  to  me  ;  it  must  be  a  feast  of  poison, 
»nd  a  lli.w  of  woe  :  if  my  secret  is  preserved,  niv  promise  to  Lynx  nmsl 
litad  to  a  commotion.     \\'ho  can  this  girl  be  that  1   undertake  to  own  ^ 

A  I  ita  ' — njw  I  think  of  it,  Im  safe  ;  he  dare  not  be  ray  fne  ;  be  I*  ai 


fO  MARRIED    LIFS. 

much  in  my  power  as  I  am  in  his  ;  yet  how  could  be  nave  diSi^verM 
«oy  unhappy  situation  ?  He  wont  acknowledge  that,  "io,  no  ;  he  con 
■iders  that  mystery  adds  to  his  stronghold  upon  me.  I  have  borrowed  a 
book  of  criminal  jurisprudence  from  my  attorney.  I  want  to  learn  the 
utmost  penalty  of  the  law  for  my  offence.  {He  takes  a  book  from  kia 
vocket,  and  turns  over  the  leaves.]  Here  it  is — bigamy  !  [Reads.]  "  If 
guilty," — "  whaf  "transportation  for  life."  Oh!  [Falling  in  a  chair] 
Think  jf  my  being  at  Botany  Bay — working  night  and  day — summei 
and  winter ;  in  trousers  without  lining  ;  only  a  shirt  on  my  back  ;  and 
a  chain  round  my  leg  ;  no  umbrella  to  put  up  when  it  rains  ;  no  such 
^hing  as  a  yard  of  Welch  flannel  within  a  thousand  miles  of  me,  and 
nothing  aired  for  me  ;  I  should  die;  the  first  damp  night  would  send  me 
to  the  tomb  of  the  Coddles — oh  !  [Shuddering 

He-enter  Mas.  Coddle,  introducing  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dismal. 

3/ra.  Cod.  Come  in,  come  in  ;  there's  nobody  here  but  Coddle. 

Cod.  Ah,  Mr.  Dismal ! — I  was  thinking  of  you 

Mrs.  Cod.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  D.  have  also  received  an  invitation  to  dine 
at  Lynx's  to-day;  and  have  called,  in  passing,  to  know  if  we  were  also 
going. 

Mrs.  Dts.  How  ill  poor  Mr.  Coddle  looks  ! 

IHs.  What  is  the  matter  with  him  1 

Mrs.  Cod.  I'm  sure  I  can't  tell ;  he  keeps  the  cause  of  his  illness  a 
profound  secret. 

Mrs.  Dis.  He's  like  me  ;  he  loves  to  pine  in  solitude,  and  brood  ovei 
unrevealed  sorrows. 

J)is.  You  love  to  be  a  fool. 

Mrs.  Cod.  Our  friends  are  as  much  surprised  at  receiving  an  invita- 
tion from  Mrs.  Lynx  as  we  were. 

Mrs.  Dis  For  the  last  time  we  called  there  the  poor  woman  thought 
proper  to  be  jealous  of  me. 

Dis.  There  was  only  that  wanting  to  prove  her  madness. 

Mrs.  Dis.   But  she  has  a  cause  for  her  jealousy. 

Dis.  Certainly,  when  you  are  present. 

Mrs.  Dis.  Didn't  we  spe  him,  yesterday,  following  a  young  person 
past  our  house  ? 

Dis.  What  of  that  1  'tis  a  naf  >'TaI  impulse  to  which  our  sex  are  pecQ 
liarly  subject. 

Mrs.  Cod.  Except  Mr.  Coddle — Were  Venus  herself  to  rise  frant 
the  sea  before  him,  he'd  take  to  his  heels  for  fear  of  catching  cold  from 
th«  foam. 

Mrs.  Dis  Tell  Mr.  Coddle  the  strange  result  of  our  inquiries,  respcel 
iig  Mr.  Lynx's  conduct. 

Dis.  Pooh  I  tell  him  yourself. 

Mrs  Dts.  The  young  person  that  we  eaw  Mr.  Lynx  followiLg,  and 
striving  to  speak  to,  was  joined  by  an  elderly  lady  in  black. 

Cod.  Eh  !  an  elderly  lady  in  black — 'twas  she,  he  told  me  she  was  ia 
Wick.  [Aside 

Mrs.  Dis.  Of  a  very  masculine  appearance  ;  Mr.  Lynx  seemed  to  eo 
tor  into   earnest  conversation  with   her ;  when  they  parted,  the  twi 


MARRIED    LIFE.  21 

Mt.iM  •ntered  a  boarding-house,  next  door  to  us;  our  servant,  gom- 
■ipmg  »fitb  the  footman,  there  ascertained  tLU  the  elderly  lady  u 
black-    - 

Cod    vVell 

Mrs    Jis.   Had  just  arrived  from  Antigua 

Mr»    Cod    Where  your  property  is  situated.  [To  CoDOtR 

Mrt  D'S  That  she  h.*d  taken  lodgings  there  fv  r  a  thort  time;  hei 
iLgec*  tKting  to  discover  ler  husband,  who  had  left  her  in  the  W'es'  In 
lies,  and  vLise  name,  stiange  to  say,  was 

Cod.  Lh  ! 

[CoDDLk  ha^  started  ui  during  Mrs.  D.'s  narrative,  and  is  regarding 
her  wiu  t-ritense  curt  isity,  now  falls  bazk  into  his  chair. 

Mrs.  Cod.    »Vhat's  the  matter T — what's  the  matter? 

Dis-   He  ht»s  fainted. 

ilrs.  Dis.  H  ^rb.  here  i  re  my  salts. 

Dis.   Open  tl. »  ^^vujoV'S — open  the  windows. 

Mrs.  Cod.  Nl,  JiC.  yoi_  will  kill  him  if  you  do. 

[Dismal  makes  to  tke  inndows,  but  is  checked  by  Mes.  Coddlk  ;  Coi>- 
DLE,  on  hearing  tKat  the  windows  are  to  be  opened,  is  about  to  ttan 
from  his  chair,  buc  nhc.ks  himself,  and  resumes  his  position 

Mr$.  Dis.  Get  him  sone  water — ring  the  bell. 
Mrs.  Cod.  Stay,  stay,  I'd  go  myself. 

[Mrs.  Coddle  runs  off  r.  f.  k.  ;  Coddle  suddenly  starts  up  bettretn 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dismal,  and  takes  a  haiid  of  each. 

Vod.  As  you  love  me — if  you  do  not  wish  to  see  me  lifeless  at  youi 
feet,  breathe  not  a  syllable  relative  to  the  elderly  lady  in  black  ;  mention 
not  her  name. 

Die.  'Twas  your  own. 

Cod.  I  know  it,  I  know  it — 'tis  a  terrible  secret ;  a  story  of  horroi 
and  despair ;  when  we  are  alone,  you  shall  know  all ;  but  not  a  word 
DOW.     I  beg — I  implore — I  pray — ah,  my  wife  ! 

[  He  falls  back  again  into  hia  chair 

Re-enter  Mrs.  Coddle,  with  a  glass  of  water. 

Mrs.  Dis.  He's  better  now, 

Dit.  Much  better. 

Cod.   [Affecting  to  revive.^  Considerably  better. 

Mrs.  Cod.  I  don't  wonder  at  your  fainting  ;  my  only  surprise  is.  ihat 
/•ju  can  breathe  at  all  in  such  an  atmosphere  there's  not  a  breath  of 
la  permitted  to  enter  the  room.  Phew  !  I'm  stifled  ;  excuse  me  a  mo- 
sent,  my  friends,  I  wish  to  speak  to  Coddle  alone.  [Dismal  anil  kit  wih 
tre  going.]  No,  no — don't  leave  the  room. 

Cod.  [Aside.]  What  can  she  be  going  to  sayl 

Mrs   Cod   Samuel ! 

Cod.  My  love ! 

Mrs.  Cod.  Surely  y}ur  agitation,  and  your  sudden  /aintnesi  canfiM 
trise  from  any  apprehension. 


tS  MARRIED    JSn, 

Cod.  Ofwhatt 

Mrs.  Cod.  That  this  elderly  lady  in  black,  i»    — 

Cod   No,  no,  no — oh,  dear!  no.  no. 

Mrs.   Cod.   You  anticipaie  me — not  whati 

Cod.  Not. — I  don't  know  1  what  were  yen  goin^  to  say  1 

Mrs.  Cod.  I  have  very  strange  and  very  *prrible  suspieioDB  ••  til 
•urely  no  poor  creature  that  you,  in  the  hey-da,   cf  your  youth 

(]od.  No,  no,  no — my  dear !  How  can  yo  i  think — how  can  you 
iream  >{  such  a  thing  !  I  never  had  any  hey-day — never ;  don't  think 
that  of  me.  Come,  come — let  us  go  to  Lynx's  to  dinner.  Get  reEtdy, 
Jeai,  get  ready. 

Mrs.  Cod.  I  strongly  suspect  you. 

[Mrs.  Coddle  goes  up  the  stage,  and  throws  a  shawl  on  her  shoul- 
ders. 

Cod  What  will  become  of  me  1  If  I  escape  the  imputation  of  bigamy, 
the  subject  of  that  girl  will  be  sufficient  to  bring  my  wife's  vengeance 
on  my  head  ;  I'll  run  and  drown  myself  in  a  v^'arm  bath.  I'll — no,  no 
— i  must  rouse,  1  must  rouse  ;  I  must  summon  all  my  courage — all  iny 
fortitude — and  bring  out  wliat  little  of  the  devil  I  have  left  in  me. 

Mrs.  Cod.   Now,  Coddle,  I'm  quite  ready. 

Cod.  So  am  I.  [Putting  on  his  hat]  Come  along,  I  shall  be  very  gay 
to-day ;  you  will  wonder  what  possesses  me.  I  shall  be  so  gay  :  come, 
Mrs  Dismal,  take  my  arm,  my  dear,  'tis  bad  taste  to  walk  with  one's 
wife      D.,  look  to  Mrs.  Coddle  1 

Mrs.  Cod    The  man's  mad 

Dis.   Raving. 

Cod.  You  shall  see  me  to  advantage  to-day;  I  feel  a  new  man  ,  yo> 
may  open  all  the  doors  and  windows  in  the  house.  I'll  do  anythin| 
desperate  to-day — walk  to  Lynx's  without  my  coat,  hat,  anything— 
come,  my  love. — Come,  Dismal. — Fol  de  rol,  de  rol  lol. 

[Coddle  dances  off  with  Mrs.  Dismal,  l 

Mrs   Cod.  Mad! 

Dis    Gone,  quite  gone.  {Eiit  JoUowing 

SCENE  11.—^  Room  at  Ltnx's. 

Enter  Mrs.  Lynx,  k. 

Mrs.  Ly.  The  timo  has  almost  arrived  that  will  either  relieve  me  h>Jm 
the  dreadful  suspense  that  I  now  endure,  or  plunge  me  still  deeper  into 
oisery  ;  since  yesterday  I  have  scarcely  uttered  a  word  in  his  presence; 
1  have  religiously  adhered  to  the  resolution  that  1  would  not  tOuch  upon 
«  3ubje>ct,  that  has  so  filled  me  with  conflicting  emotions;  but  tr-day,  in 
an  hour,  I  shall  know  the  worst ;  and  if  he  be  the  guilty  one  that  I  am 
madly  certain  he  is,  his  friends  and  the  world  shall  kiow  how  I  hav« 
Leen  wrongf'd,  and  for  what  purpose  I  have  asseml  L-d  them  here. 
[Proditces  a  letter.'^  Were  it  not  for  tokens  like  these,  I  phould  almost 
think  that  I  had  ceased  to  charm — had  ceased  to  be  Ic  ik.^d  upon  even 
with  interest,  by  the  meanest  of  earth's  creature's  ;  here  is  one  that  tells 
me  he  loves  me :  my  husband  once  tdid  m3  so,  but  thei.  1  was  youngei 


JIARRIEb    LIFE.  23 

uid  had  a  free  haart  to  give  ;  that  now,  alas,  is  gone  for  ever;  here  ii 
one  who  offers  me  wealth — splendor  and  affection — if  I  will  f<  rsake  a 
husband  that  slights  me — that  torments  and  maddens  me — what  sbali 
I  do''  I  have  now  the  means  of  revenge — of  a  full  and  bold  revenge 
Shal'  J  use  them  but  to  awe  my  husband,  or  shall  I  listen,  and  so  make 
bim  vte  tha  day  that  he  first  roused  my  jealousy  !  But  he  may  not  '.< 
guilty — this  girl  may  have  no  claim  on  him — beyond  one  of  comjiassion 
or  kindness.  I  may  have  suspected  wrongly,  and  he  may  still  have  • 
lingering  love  for  me,  that  may  one  day  revive  in  all  its  early  strength 
»nd  then,  were  1  to  kiiow  him  innocent,  and  myself  the  only  guilty  one. 
f  should  go  mad — should  die — should — oh,  heaven  !  help  me 

[S/u  falls  exhausted  by  her  feelings,  in  a  chair ,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dqvi 
heard  L. 

Mrs.  Dave.  Now,  my  dear  Henry,  mind  your  behavior. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Ah  !  those  people  have  arrived ,  my  husband  has  neither 
•een  them,  nor  heard  of  their  having  been  here.  I  shall  watch  hia 
well  when  they  first  meet. 

Enter  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dote,  l 

Mrs.  Dove.  Good  day  to  you,  madam — I  hope  you  find  yourself  ii. 
perfect  health  ? 

Dove.  [Bowins.']  Good  day,  madam,  feel  yourself  pretty  welH 

Mrs  Dove,  Henry,  my  dear,  silence. 

Mrs.  Ly.   I  am  obliged  to  you  for  being  so  faithful  to  your  promise 

Mrs.  Dove.  'Tis  the  height  of  ill-manners  to  disappoint  one's  friend* 
in  an  invite  to  dinner. 

Dove.  And  very  stupid  too.  to  refuse  wittles. 

Mrs.  Dove.  Henrj,  my  dear 

Dove    My  darling,  you  never  will  let  me  talk. 

Mrs.  Dove    Not  till  you  know  how,  my  love. 

Dove.  But  my  dear,  if  you  don't  let  me  practise,  how  am  I  ever  t* 
«wquire  the  artl 

Mrs.  Dove.  .Acquire,  verb  active,  to  gain  ;  inquire,  verb  neuter,  to  aik 
questions  ;  acquire  the  art. 

Dove.  Acquire  the  hart  ? 

Mrs.  Dove.  Don't  aspirate,  love. 

Dove.  Oh,  bother,  dear. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Let  me  beg  of  you  not  to  allude  to  this  young  person  till 
•  fter  dinner,  I  will  then  lead  the  conversation  to  that  subject ;  and  then 
I  hcpf  you  •will  freely  and  truly  state  all  that  you  may  know  respectii.j 

Enter  Lynx,  k 

[ync.  Etnaieline,  I  [Seeing  Dove  and  his  wife.'}  What !  the  my8tef5 
«  niw  clear,  that  woman  has  traced  me,  has  told  my  wife,  but  my  seen* 
ji  safe 

Mrs  Dove.  Ah,  Mr.  Lynx,  how  d'ye  dol  surnrised  to  see  me  btrt 
•/■>  doubt  1 

Lynx.  No,  madam,  no 

Mrs  Dove.  'Tis  some  tjne  since  we  met. 


24  MARRIED    LI7B. 

Lynx.  Almost  a  year,  I  think. 

DoTi  Eleven  months  !  I  ought  to  know,  because  we  wan.'  JBtta# 
wber.  Mr.  Lynx  used  to  give  me  half  a  crown  for 

Mrs    Date.  Henry 

Mrs.  Ly.  I  was  informed  that  you  knew  these  good  people. 

[rolTifi 

LytiX.  Oh  yes,  my  dear,  they  are  my  very  old  friends. 

ilrg  Ly  Then  I  am  happy  in  being  the  cause  of  renewing  a  friend 
jjj.  that  seems  so  warm  on  either  side ;  come,  Mr  Dove,  lead  me  to 
he  dining-room,  our  friends  have  ^jrived,  no  doubt.  Mr.  Dove,  will 
f  >u  favor  me  with  your  arm  ? 

Dove    Eh  !  [Looking  confused  ct  his  wife.]  What  am  I  to  do! 

Mrs.  Dove.  Give  Mrs.  Lynx  ''jur  arm. 

Mrs.  Ly.   Lionel,  will  you  b  .ng  Mrs.  Dovel 

Lynx.  [Offering  his  arm  I ,  Mrs.  Dove.]  Certainly. 

Dove.  [^Leading  off  Mrs.  Lynx,  l.]  Well,  I  declare,  this  is  gente«l 
life. 

Mrs.  Dove.  Thank  you,  sir,  you  are  very  kind. 

[Lv.Nx  leads  off  Mes.  Dove,  l.  ;  Coddle  looks  on.  r.,  quite  pale. 

Cod.  I  have  been  running  all  over  the  house  to  look  for  Lynx, — 1 
/faouiiht  I  heard  his  voice  here — how  1  tremble  1  he  must  know  that  Mr. 
ind  Mrs.  Dismal  have  seen  that  wretched  woman — though  they  have 
promised  secrecy    yet  I  cannot  expect  they  will  be  always  silent. 

Re-enter  Lynx. 

Uh,  my  friend  !  1  have  been  Jooking  for  you — they  are  all  at  dinner,  but 
I  can't  eat  in  the  state  of  mind  I  am  in.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dismal  saw  you 
talking  to  her. 

Lynr..  To  whom  '^ 

Cot'    The  elderly  lady  in  black. 

Li  IX.  They  did  ! 

C  I.  Don't — don't  look  so  astonished,  you  frighten  me. 

J  yni.  They  surely  will  not  talk  of  if! 
bd.  They  have  promised  to  be  secret,  but  what  will  be  my  feeliuf*, 
ii  their  presence  1 — when  either  of  them  speak,  1  shall  die  with  appre- 
'  tnsion. 

Lynx.  Leave  it  to  me ;  we  will  see  this  woman  to-morrow,  and  make 
some  arrangement  with  her. 

Cod.  I'll  say  anything — do  anything — give  anything — only  conceal 
thr  affair  from  my  wife. 

Lynx.  Depend  upon  me,  and  be  at  peace.  But  be  sure  you  do  no< 
•<iyivocate  in  the  question  of  this  girl.  The  school-mistress  with  whoa 
^«  li^?d  if  now  here — at  my  very  table.  Remember !  I,  at  your  request 
^ared  the  girl  under  her  care. 

Cod.   Yes. 

Lynx.  Because  you  did  not  dare  confers  to  your  wife  that  you  iud 
incur^^ed  such  a  responsibility, — but  now  you  are  anxious  to  wfatow- 
ledge  her. 

Cod    What  will  Mary  say  1 

L^nz.  Remember,  you  have  sworn  h. 


HARRIES  Lira.  8S 

Ood   I  haTe,  but  tell  xne — who  is  tbis  girl  t 

Lytx.  That  is  a  xnystery  that  I  Jare  not  disc  jse,  even  tc  you. 

Cod.  Biess  me  I  w  hai  twc  rebrcbates  we  are. 

/^ynz.  Ccnie  to  the  drawing-room,  I  must  make  some  excuse  for  j^mt 

••ving  whe  table.     Now,  be  bold. 

Cod.  Yes,  yes. 

Ly7ix.  Do  not  equivocate. 

Cod.  No,  no. 

Lynx.  On  yoHi  moral  courage  depends  y»«<r  own  s&fe^j,  and  mf 
lappiness. 

Cod.  I  know  it,  I  know  it. 

Lynx.  And  the  least  appearance  of  timidity  may  ~in  us ;  now,  an 
J  )u  Tsady  ^ 

God.  Wait  a  moment. 

[Butlo7itng  his  coat  up  to  his  throat  with  great  resolution. 
When  I  expect  to  be  excited,  I  like  to  be  guarded  against  taking  cold — 
against  the  effects  of  draughts  and  currents  of  air.  My  courage  is  rising 
— it's  up — now  I'm  ready — give  me  your  arm — there,  look  at  me  !  Did 
you  ever  see  a  finer  illustration  of  desperate  courage  1  Never. — Now 
to  the  field  of  action — to  mortal  strife — and  death  or  victc'«. 

[£!xit,  dragging  off  Lynx,  i.. 

SCENE  III. — A  drawing-room ;  in  the  centre  a  large  fno-table.  on  which 
is  set  out  a  complete  dessert ;  all  the  party  are  discovered ,  Coddle  occu- 
pies the  R  earlier,  in  an  easy  chair ;  Mrs.  Lynx  is  seated  beside  him; 
next  to  her  is  Mr.  Younghusband  and  Mr.  Dismal  ;  Mrs.  Dove  and 
Me.  Lynx  sit  together,  Mrs.  Dism\l  next  to  him;  then  Mrs.  Coddl» 
and  Mes.  Yoonghusband  ;  Mr.  Dove  occupies  the  l.  corner. 

All.  \_But  Coddle  and  Lynx.]  Astonishing!  to  keep  the  matter  a  se- 
cret so  long.     Strange  I   strange  ! 

Lynx.  Now,  let  us  drop  the  subject.  Mrs.  Coddle,  I  trust  thai 
jrou  will  not  respect  or  love  your  husband  the  less  for  this  late  dis- 
closure t 

Mrs.  Cod.  Oh .  no,  no  ;  I  merely  feel  hurt  that  he  should  have 
thought  it  necessary  to  have  concealed  the  circumstance.  Had  I  boen  a 
violent,  jealous,  bad-tempered  woman  there  might  have  been  some 
cause  for  secresy  ;  but  as  everybod-'  knows  what  a  kind,  indul&fent 
creature  I  really  am,  he  might  have  made  me  his  confidani !  and  the 
poor  girl  should  have  been  brought  home.     Where  is  she  now  1 

Jjynx  Quite  safe,  depend  upon  it ;  I  will  explain  ail  at  another  oppoF> 
tuuity. 

Mrs.  Ly.  \^Asidc  J  Falsehood,  all  falsehood  !  I'm  convinced. 

Lynx.  [To  his  wife.']  Now,  my  dear,  I  trust  you  are  perfectly  satu 
fi«vi ;  and  in  this  instance,  I  hope,  you  will  confess  that  you  were  Jt 
error. 

All  s.  Ly.  Certainly,  as  I  have  no  opposing  evidence  to  the  veracity  of 
»»Mr  st-^ry  ;  though,  still,  I  think  it  very — very  strange,  that  you  should 
Lav«  sw  troubled  yourself  on  Mr.  Coddle's  account,  if  'twere  a  mere  act 
of  friendi^hip  ;  the  mopt  famed  heroe?  of  antiquity  have  never  beea  sor 
paisedL 


26  UABRIED   UFK. 

God.  Ha  /  ha  !  now  I  feel  happy  ;  now  my  mind  is  at  ease,  and  VM 
be  comfortable.  How  that  Mrs.  Dismal  fixes  her  eyes  on  me  !  Now  fill 
your  glasses  ;  Mr.  Dove,  take  care  of  your  jauj. 

Dove.  Yes,  yes.  [^A  knock  and  ring  heard. 

Lynx    Some  arrival.  [Dovk  jumps  up,  and  rung  off,  t- 

Mrs.  Dove.  [Slirting  u^.]  Henry,  come  back.  I  declare  the  man  haa 
gone  to  the  door      Henry ! 

Dote  re-enters 

Dove.  The  door  is  opened ;  there's  an  individual—— 

Jfrg.  Dove.  Sit  down,  my  dear,  sit  down. 

Dove.  [Aside.]  I  never  shall  get  over  answering  the  door  when  a 
tnock  comes. 

[  Voices  heard  tnthout  in  altercation, 

A  voice.  You  mistake  ;  you  do,  indeed  !     You  mistake. 

Cod    [.Apprehensively.]  What  is  it  1 

Dovt.  An  individual 

Mrs.  Dove.  Silence,  Henry  ! 

Mrs.  Ly.  [Rising.]  The  servant  is  in  altercation  with  some  one  ai  th* 
d/ior ;  who  can  it  be  I 

Lynx.  [Rising.]  Ring  the  belL 

Mrs.  Ly.  No,  no — I'll  go  myself 

Cod.  I  have  a  horrid  presentiment  of  evil ;  a  moment  since  I  waa 
glowing  like  a  furnace,  with  joy ;  and  now  I  freeze  again  with  terror. 

Mrs.  Cod.   What's  the  matter,  dear,  do  you  feel  cold  i 

Cod    Yes — yes,  ugh  !  [Shuddering 

Mrs.  Cod.  And  I'm  dying  for  air. 

Mrs.  Y.  So  am  I,  Mrs.  Coddle. 

Youns.  I  am  sure  you  are  not. 

Mrs.  Y.   I  am. 

Dismal.  Shall  I  open  the  folding  doora  1 

Cod.  No — no  ! 

Dove.  I  feel  very  languishing. 

Mrs.  Dove.  Henry  !  languid. 

Doce   Languid  ! — how  she  does  take  me  up  before  people.       iAai44 

God.  Hush  !  here's  Mrs.  Lynx. 

Iti&s.  Lynx  re-enters,  a  letter  in  her  hand.    Coddle  regards  her  with  was 
iely.     Mrs.  Lynx  is  trembling  with  agitation. 

Mrs.  Ly.  It  was — it  was  as  I  suspected,  a  black  falsehood. 
Lynx.  What  is  the  matter  ? 

Cod.  I  shall  fall  flat  on  the  floor,  something  is  going  to  happen. 
Mrs.  Ly.  [To  Lynx  ]   Restrain  your  curiosity,  sir;  you  will  uic'W 
ill  in  a  moment  ;  there  is  a  lady  below 
Cod.   I  thought  so. 
Mrs   Ly.   An  elderly  lady  in  black. 
Cod.  I'm  a  dead  man. 

[Falling  hack  in  his  chair,  m  lUter  Seapmi 
Mrs.  Ly.  She  tells  me  that  her  name  is  Coddle 


MARRIED    Lm.  yi 

M-:  Cod.  [Starting  up.]  "WTiat ! 

Mrs  Ly.  [Pointing  to  Coddle.]  And  that  she  is  that  man's  wife. 

Cod.   'Groaning.]  Oh  !  I  wish  I  could  vanish  through  the  floor. 

Mt».  Ly.   This  letter  is  for  you,  madam. 

Mrs.  Cod.  For  me  '  [8tie  tears  the  Letter  open,  a  marriage  certtJictU* 
ftlU  on  Ihejioor.]  What  is  this  \  Oh,  I  can't  read  it — I  shall  faint — 1 
ttave  no  power  te  read  ;  praj  take  it,  some  one — Mr. — anybody — praj 
read  it  [She  holds  out  the  Letter,  Dotb  takea  it. 

All.  [But  Coddle  and  Mrs.  Dote.]  Read  it,  Mr.  Dove. 

Dove.  I — I  can't  read. 

Mn   Dove.   Henry — How  can  you  so  expose  yourself  1 

Dove    You  read  it,  maam.  [Giving  it  to  Mrs.  Younghusbaiib. 

Mn.   Y.  Shall  i  read  it,  Mrs.  Coddle  ( 

J£r3.  Cod.  Yes,  yes,  aloud — aloud — let  the  whole  world  hear  it. 

Mrs.  Y.  [Reading.]  "  Madam,  the  writer  of  this  is  an  injured 
woman.     The  monster 

Cod.  That's  me— oh— 

Mrs.  Y.  "The  monster  to  whom  you  are  married  has  another  wife. 
I  am  that  person  ;  the  enclosed  is  a  copy  of  my  marriage  certificate  ; 
'tis  dated  twenty  years  back.     My  object  in  coming  to  England  is  to 
claim  a  maintenance,  and  expose  the  villain. 
"  Your  obedient  servant, 

"  Belvidera  Coddle." 

All.  Bless  me  !  Dear,  dear,  dear  1  What  a  wretch — what  a  mon- 
ster! 

Mrg.  Ly.  The  poor  woman  had  better  be  asked  up. 

Cod.  [Springing  from  his  chair.]  No,  no  1  I'd  sooner  face  a  thousan<J 
fiends  than  look  once  again  on  that  dreadful  being.  My  dear,  my  love ! 
[To  his  wife  ]  You  doni  know  what  I  have  suffered — what  I  have  endu 
red,  through  that  woman  I  In  the  first  place,  I  was  decoyed — trapped 
She  left  me  ;   I  once  thought  she  was  dead  ,  but 

Mrs.  Cod.  [Rising  with  dignity.]  Silence,  Samuel  !  You  have 
deceived  me.  I  could  have  pardoned  anything  but  this.  As  to  the 
subject  of  the  poor  girl,  that  you  have  stated  belongs  to  you,  that  1 
freely  forgava 

Mrs.  Ly.  [  Violently.]  'Tis  false,  Mrs.  Coddle  !  I  asked  the  question 
of  the  bearer  of  that  letter.  I  thought  that  she  might  be  the  parent  of 
the  girl ;  but  no.  no  ;  your  husband  has  but  supported  mine  in  a  fals» 
hood  ;  he  never  had  a  daughter.  And  you.  sir,  [To  Lynx,]  are  disco 
»ered  and  laid  bare  ;  but  I  shall  leave  you  this  day,  forever. 

All.  Nay,  nay. 

Mrs.  Cod.  And  I  shall  quit  my  wretch.  [She  advances  to  Codihk, 
mho  buries  his  face  in  hi^  hands.]  From  this  moment,  sir,  we  separate. 
G-,'  \o  your  wife,  the  woman  who  lawfully  claims  you,  and  never  look 
me  in  the  face  again.  We  were  an  ill-assorted  pair  from  the  first ;  but 
your  affected  etpathy  is  now  accounted  for  ;  it  arose  from  an  evil  coo- 
■cience.     Cold-hearted,  deliberate  deceiver  !  farewell  for  ever  ! 

[Mrs.   Coddle  Ttuhes  out, 

Qtd.  Maiy,  come  back ;  come  back ;  bear  me.   [He  runt  Unkeim,lmi 


IKS  MARRIED   LIFX: 

tuddenly  stops.'\  I  dare  not  follow  her  ;  I  shall  meet  the  othet     No.  c  •  , 
I  muBt  fly ;  I  must  leave  the  -ountry  ;  'tis  now  no  home  for  me. 

Lynx.  Sit  still,  my  friend  ;  be  composed. 

Cod.   I  can't ;  I'll  leave  the  house  ;  I'll Ah,  this  door — [Pcinttng 

R.l — leads  ta  the  canal  ;  I'll  drown  myself;  I'm  desperate  enough ;  the 
•un  has  been  on  the  water  all  day,  so  I've  nothing  to  fear ;  I  am 
iasulved  upon  my  course — felo-de-se,  nothing  else.  Adieu,  my  friends  ; 
'm  a  discovered,  a  guilty  monster  ;  and  this  is  the  last  time  that  you 
*iU  ever  see  the  distracted,  wretched,  Samuel  Coddle. 

[Coddle  ruihes  off  a. 

Young.  [Starting  up.]    The  man  will  drown  himself. 

Mrs   Y.   No  he  won't ;   sit  still ;  you'll  only  make  matters  worse. 

Dis.  Sit  still  all  of  you  ;  I  know  him  ;  when  he  comes  in  sight  of  tba 
water,  his  courage  will  cool ;  sit  still. 

Jfrs.  Dove.  Shall  my  dear  Dove  follow  him  1 

Dove.  I  can't  swim,  duck  1 

Dismal.  No,  no  ;  sit  still. 

Mrs.  Ly.  What,  sir ;  not  a  word  !  quite  confounded  1 

[  Who  has  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on  her  husband  throughout  the  scene. 

Lynx.  Emmeline  !  [Rising.]  appearances,  I  confess,  are  against  me  ; 
but  you  know  not  all.  You  know  not  the  cause  which  compels  me  to 
this  course  ;  be  patient. 

Mrs.  Ly.  I  have  been  patient  long  enough,  and  will  endure  no  more  : 
this  is  the  last  moment  that  I  pass  under  your  roof 

Lynx.   Are  you  mad  !    will  you  hear  me  i 

Mrs.  Ly.  No,  sir. 

Lynx.  If  you  once  quit  the  house,  we  never  meet  again. 

Mrs.  Ly.  That  is  my  wish. 

Lynx.  I3e  warned  ; — if  you  leave  me  now — it  mutt — it  shall  be  for- 
«ver. 

Mrs.  Ly    It  is,  sir,  for  ever.       [Rushes  out,  L. — All  the  company  rise. 

Lynx.  Nay,  nay,  keep  your  seats,  my  friends  ;  keep  your  seats.  I 
will  not  have  a  soul  stir  a  foot  to  expojtulate  with  her  ;  let  her  take  hei 
own  course.  I  have  been  in  error,  I  confess  ;  but  not  to  the  extent  that 
she  supposes  ;  her  causeless  jealousies — her  unceasing  suspicions  have 
wearied  me.  and  she  is  free  to  go ;  pray  do  not  be  disturbed  on  my  ac- 
CJ)unt ;  make  yourselves  happy  ;  I  am  sorry  that  our  meeting  should 
h«ve  ended  thus  ;  but  my  wife  is  to  blame  ;  she  would  not  hear — would 
JO*  listen  to  me  ;  and  now  [Aside.']  I  leave  this  hi  use  nerer  to  return 

[Exit.  B 

Dore.  Now  he's  gone  ;  shall  I  follow  him,  love ' 

Mrs.  Dove.  No,  no  ;  sit  still,  dear. 

Mrs.  Y.  Call  him  back  I  Mr.  Lynx !  [Calling  ]  he'll  do  himself  a 
niiohief — I  know  he  will. 

Young.  He  won't ;  sit  still ;  if  you  follow  and  torment  him  as  von 
i.9  me  sometimes,  you  will,  indeed,  drive  him  to  desperation. 

Mrs    Y.  I  follow  and  torment  you.  sir'? 

Yonn^.    You  do — often — often. 

Mrs,   Y.  You're  an  aggravating  man,  and 

Mrt    ^ove.  [Eising      Nay,  nay ;  dear,  dear  *  pray  don't  (Ct  to  «  nrit 


HARRIED    LIFB.  S9 

—my  d2.Tling,  H^nry.  hand  that  lady  some  wine  ;  sit  stUl  th«»«;'i  » 
iear.  [7'(i  Mb».  Younghusband.]  Emulate  Mr.  Dove  and  me,  we  neyet 
utter  a  cross  v/ord  to  earh  other — do  we,  dear'' 

Birvc    No,  love  [Huuil/m:  ufir  to  Mrs    YooNGiineB;" ND. 

Mrs.  Y.  Take  it  awaj    sir,  1  don't  want  wine.     Oh,  sir,  you  need  not 
<it   there    looking   so  fierce.    [7b  Younghusband.J    I    was   ceiiain  wt 
hould  have  a  disagreement   before  the  day  was  out ;    you  contradicted 
Bse  about  my  silver  thimble — you  insisted  that  aunt  Sarah  gave  it  me. 

Young.  So  she  did. 

Mrs.  Y.   She  didn't — 'twas  uncle  Tolloday  gave  it  me 

Young    "Twas  aunt  Sarah. 

Mrs.  Y    Uncle  Tolloday. 

Young.   You're  a  provoking  woman 

Mrs    Y    You're  a  hideous  man. 

Young.  I'm  going  home. 

Mrs.  Y.  I  am  not.     I  shall  never  go  home  any  more. 

Young.  That  won't  break  my  heart. 

Mrs.  Y.    Your  heart !  you  never  had  one. 

Young.  I  had  once. 

Mrs.  Y.  Never. 

Young.  You  drive  me  to  madness  !  I  shall  go  home  ;  and  I  can  only 
lell  you,  madam,  since  you  threaten  me,  that  when  you  arrive  there  you 
will  receive  no  welcome  from  me. 

Mrs.  Y   Do  you  mean  that  1 

Youfg.  I  do.  [He  rushes  off,  a. 

Mrs  Y  Then  I'll  go  to  my  aunt  Sarah ; — he  shall  never  see  me 
again,  an  aggravating  creature.  How  I  could  ever  marry  him,  I  can't 
think!  It  was  uncle  Tolloday  that  gave  mc  the  silver  thimble — I  know 
it  was  ;  but  he  will  contradict  me  He  does  it  on  purpose  to  vex  me — 
and  oppose  me — and  worry  me — and  break  my  heart ;  but  I'll  go  thi« 
momerit  to  my  aunt's,  and  I'll  never— never  set  foot  in  his  house  again 

[Exit,  L. 

Mrs.  Dove.  Dear,  dear!  what  wretched  lives  some  pe  »^le  do  lead, 
don't  they,  love. 

Dove.   Yes,  dear. 

MrK.  Dis  {To  Dismal.]  Just  like  you  brutes  of  ni»  i — it's  quitf 
Ueart-breaking  to  see  how  we  poor  creatures  ar«  treated  ! 

Dis.  Wbit  is  it  to  you  ;  nobody  ill-treats  you 

Mis  Dis.  You  do  ;  I've  been  sitting  here  for  this  hour,  -aid  you  hav* 
never  spoken  a  word  to  me. 

Dis.   I  had  nothing  to  say. 

Mrs.  Dis.  .\nd  though  you  know  how  fond  I  am  of  the  wing  of  I 
fwwl,  you  would  send  me  a  leg  at  dinner. 

Dis.   You  women  always  want  the  wing. 

Mrs.  Dis    I'm  a  wretched  woman. 

Mm.  Dove.  My  dear  Henry,  can't  you  console  poor  Mrs.  I^tma]! 

Dt)t>e.  Oh  yes,  love  :   h-\\e  a  hapricot,  ma'am' 

Mrs   Dove    An  apricot — Henry,  dear,  you  mi    ip^ly  yo»     i  JjAtA 
antcle. 

D«^    Do  J ' — console  the  lad3  >  lursrf*"  lov^ 


dO  MARRISD    LIFX. 

Mr»   Dis.   The  fact  is — I  had  no  business  to  marry  you 
Ihs    Now  you  speak  the  truth,  we  both  ought  to  have  <nowa  bettet 
when  people  have  lived  single  for  fifty  years,  they  should  'earn  to  looh 
on  matrimony  as  a  misery  they  have  luckily  escaped 

Mrs   Dis    You  need  not  allude  to  my  age,  sir,  before  people. 
Dt*.    What  does  ii  matter?  who  cares  how  old  you  arel  you'ru  fiftj 
»(lu—  80  am  1 ;  and  we  have  been  married  a  year  and  a  half — more  foM 
/—lEjre  fool  you. 
Mrs.  Dis.  [Crosses,  L.]  I'm  going  home. 
Ow.   Well,  go. 

Mn.  Dis    Don't  you  intend  to  come  with  mef 
Dts    No. 

Mrs.  Dis.  You're  an  unkind  man,  and  if  we  never  meet  again — ^I 
•La'n't  be  sorry. 

Ihs.  Then  the  gratification  will  be  mutual 

Mrs.  Dis.  Indeed!  1  shall  take  you  at  your  word,  sir,  [Going']  hvA, 
remember  all  my  property  is  settled  on  myself  [Exit,  l. 

Dis  Serves  me  right — after  living  a  bachelor  fifty  years,  I  had  no 
right  to  alter  my  situation,  but  I'll  apply  for  a  divorce — I  will — 'twill 
be  granted  too  ;    I've  an  excellent  plea — mutual  insanity.  [Exit,  K. 

Dove.  VV'ell — now  all  the  people  have  gone.  I've  something  to  say — 
and  something  that  I  mean,  too ;  I  won't  be  taken  up,  as  I  always  am, 
before  people. 

Mrs.  Dove    What  do  you  mean,  Henry,  by  being  taken  up  ? 
Dove.   Why — altering  my  pronunciation  every  minute,  as  you  do. 
Mrs    Dove    How  can  I  calmly  sit  and  hear  my  husband  commit  him- 
self in    every  syllable  that  he   utters!    respect  for  you  and  for  myself, 
renders  it  necessary  that  I  should  correct  you. 

Dove.   Weil,  I  don't  like  it — and  I  warn  you  not  to  result  me  again. 
Mrs.  Dove,   hisult  you. 

Dace.  Well,  insult  me  again — you  know  how  wiolent  I  am  when  I'm 
exagirerated. 

Mrs.  Dove    When  you're  exasperated. 

D(jve.  Well,  what's  it  matter !  you  perfectly  compromise  my  mean- 
ing. 

Mr.t  Dove.  Henry — Henry — 1  will  not  hear  you  make  use  of  such 
language.      Had  1  been  aware  that  you  were  so  illiterate— I  would  hav« 

broken  rny  heart  ere  I  would  have  married  you 

Dove  Yes — you  never  used  to  find  fault  with  my  language  when  W€ 
■jxcil  to  sit  under  the  apple-tree  of  an  evening. 

J/r*  Dove.  That  I  should  not  have  seen  the  absurdity  of  uniting  mj 
•elf  wilh  one  so  opposite  to  me  ! 

Dovi  Opposite  to  you  ! — you  never  would  let  me  be  opposite  to  you, 
M>u   was  nfiver  easy  but   when    I   was   by  your  side;  yoi  knriv  yov 

WAen'l  . 

Mrs.  Dove.   But  love  is  blind 

Dove  Yes,  and  deaf  too,  if  I  may  judge  from  my  own  situation  ;  jual 
a£  if  J  lu  coulJn  t  have  found  out  my  pronunciation  then  as  well  as  noyr. 
i  know'd  ther^  was  a  great  contract  between  us. 

Mrs.   Dure    Contrast  '■  besides,   you  are  so   stupid ;  jou  could   IM^ 


MARRIED    LIFE  31 

luring  dinner,  hear  a  bell  or  a  knock  at  the  doc     lut  you  tsus;  be  rnn- 
ning  to  answer  it      I  sat  on  thorns  for  you. 

Dove.  Well,  then,  that  was  werry  kind  of  yoii  I  wouldn't  do  nuch 
a  thing  for  my  father  ;  but  don't  call  me  stupid — if  you  talk  of  bad  lan- 
guage, what's  that,  I  wonder^  Good  bye  I — you  won't  see  me  again, 
iii  a  hurry. 

Mrs.  Dove.   Where  are  you  going? 

Dove.  1  don't  know  where  I  am  going,  nor  I  don't  care ;  rou>« 
wounded  me  in  a  tender  pint. 

Mrs.  Dove.   Point ! 

Dove.   Point !  and  I  don't  care  if  I  never  see  you  agam. 

Mrs.  Dove.  [Ttking  his  hand.]  Henry  ! 

Dove.  Let  go  my  hand,  Martha  ;  I  mean  what  I  say ;  and  don't  follow 
me,  because  I  won't  be  follow'd. 

Mrs.  Dove.    Yoa  cannot  intend  to  be  so  base  1 

Dove.  I  do — you've  put  me  in  a  passion,  and  when  I  am  in  a  passion 
t'm  dissolute.  [_Exit,  k. 

Mrs.  Dove.  Resolute!  [Calling  after  him]  Cruel  Henry!  I  shedl 
faint — Help  !  Henry  I — Water! — oh  !  oh  ! 

[She  faints  in  a  chair,  and  the  drop  falls. 

END    OF    ACT    II. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — A  meanly  furnished  room ;  a  door  in  the  flat,  R  ;  in  the  te- 
cond  entrance,  l.,  a  door  bolted;  the  window  shutters  oj  the  room  are 
put  up.  Table  and  chaim,  two  candleii  bvrniiia.  A  knack  heard  at  l 
D.;  after  a  pause.  Coddle  peeps  out  oJ  the  door  mflat. 

Cod.  Who  can  that  be?  I  told  the  woman  of  the  house  on  no  ac- 
count to  admit  a  soul,  or  to  tell  any  one  who  had  taken  her  rooms  ;  but 
if  she  should  be  obliged  to  confess,  to  give  out  that  a  half-crazy  gentle- 
man occupies  them,  who  will  not  allow  a  creature  to  approach  him  but 
herself.  I  think  I  am  safe  here,  nobody  knows  me  ;  I've  changed  my 
name,  T  have  paid  a  month's  rent  in  advance,  have  closed  and  fastened 
the  shutters  and  door,  and  intend  to  live  in  future  by  candle-light ;  so 
here  I  am  alone  [sitting  in  a  chair']  with  two  wives  claiming  me,  yei 
■lone,  that's  something.  What  a  night  I  have  passed  !  One  minute 
trembling  with  apprehension,  the  iv^xt  with  cold  ;  the  lo^se  windows 
rattling  all  night  like  the  chain  of  a  sleepless  felon — nothing  but 
draughts  all  over  the  room,  and  a  corner  house  too,  its  edges  wore 
iway  by  the  wind  constantly  whistling  round  it — ugh  '  [.shuddering — « 
knocking  heard,  l.  d.J  It  must  have  been  the  landlady  that  knocked  ;  she 
thought  I  was  asleep,  no  doubt,  so  wouldn't  disturb  me  ;  how  cold  I  am 
.—there  is  a  terrible  wind  somewhere.  This  is  the  most  miserable  plate 
1  ever  was  in  in  my  life  ;  where  can  that  i-ush  of  air  come  from  T  I 
must  find  out.  here's  my  tow  [going  to  table]  with  this  and  a  skewer,  1 
r*o  s'..2p  e'lery  crevice. 

li/e  goes  round  th\  room  with  a  lighted  candle;  he  holds  it  befor*  4 
cr^nfice  in  the  fla  ;  the  flame  of  the  candle  waves. 


S9  Married  life. 

A.h  !   here's  the  place — a  thorough  ilraugnt.  enough  to  kill  me.   [  fkn 
tandle  eoes  intt.]   It  has  blown  the  candle  out ;  what  a  hdrid  place  ! 

[//«    hammers  some  tow   into    '.he   crevice ;  whih   thus  employid,  t 

kiifickms^  It  again  heard  at  the  L.  D.,  Coddle  starts,  the  hammfis 

fal^t  from  his  hand. 

Who's  there]  'tis  the  footstep  of  a  man,  it   is   not  the  landlady;   [// 

treeps  tv  the  l.  d.  and  listeru\  officers  of  justice,  perhaps,  who  doggtw 

Bie  here, — hush  ! 

[Listens  again  ;  a  loud  knock  makes  him  start  away  from  the  ioot 
Shall  I  answer  1  I  will — I  must — this  suspense  will  drive  me  mat 
Who — who's  there  ? 

Lynx.  [  Without.]  My  dear  fellow,  open  the  door. 

Cod.  Oh,  it's  my  excellent  friend.  Lynx. 

[i/e  runs  to  the  door,  and  unbolt- 
Come  in,  come  in  ;  quick,  quick- 

[Lynx  enters;  Coddle  immediately  closes  the  door  again,  and  bolt  •  •^ 
Now,  what's  the  matter  1  how  did  you  find  me  out?  what  brought  yoa 
here  1  any  of  the  police  after  me  1  any  warrant  granted  1  Speak, 
speak. 

Lynx.  No.no,  calm  your  fears. 

Cod.  Was  it  you  that  knocked  at  the  door  a  few  minutes  ago  1 

Lynx.  Yes,  yes,  and  I  thought  you  were  dead,  as  I  could  get  no  reply 
You  are  as  difficult  to  come  at  as  a  grand  sultan. 

Cod.  I  am  a  grand  sultan.  I  rejoice  in  a  plurality  of  wives.  Oh,  thai 
Turkey,  what  a  blessed  country  !  where  bigamy  is  a  virtue,  and  a  man's 
consequence  is  rated  not  by  the  number  of  voices  he  can  command  in 
a  parliament,  but  by  the  number  of  wives  he  can  command  at  home 
But  tell  me.  how  did  you  discover  my  retreat  1 

Lynx.  You  certainly  could  not  expect  to  remain  here  unknown. 

Cod.  Whyl 

Lynx.  The  house  not  only  belongs  to  an  inspector  of  the  police,  but » 
Bow-street  officer  occupies  the  floor  above  you. 

Cod.   Oh  !   I  am  a  doomed  man.  [Falling  into  his  chair. 

Lynx.  The  woman  of  the  house  gave  me  your  whole  history,  when  I 
called  a  quarter  cf  an  hour  ago.  I  expect  two  or  three  of  our  friend* 
here  in  a  moment.      Dismal,  I  have  left  at  the  door. 

Cod.  Which  do  you  think  the  easiest  method  of  quitting  life  1 

Lynx.   Quitting  Hfe  ! 

Cod.  Aye.  of  committing  suicided — hanging,  poisoning,  suffocation 
(Trowning,  or  the  pistoll  For  to  one  of  these  escapes  from  my  t«nir* 
'  am  determined  to  apply. 

Lynx.  Then  you  have  not  seen  your  wifel 

Cod.  Which? 

Lynx.  Your  second. 

Cod.  Not  since  we  parted  at  your  house  yesteraay  I  can  nevei  ton 
her  again.     How  is  Mrs.  Lynx' 

Lynx.  She  has  lefl  me. 

Cod.   Left  you  ! 

Li/nx    I  am  not  in  search  of  her.  for  this  morning  I  hava  received  is 


HARRIED    LIFK.  SS 

lB»igenct>  that  leaes  me  at  liberty  to  confe8s  more  ie«|-«titu/{  t^*    |^ 
Jhaii  I  have  hitherto  dared  to  tell. 

Cod,.  That  girl !  My  adopted  daughter,  you  mean  7 

Lynx.  I  do ;  to  this  alone  is  my  wife  indebted  for  my  seeking  her  I 
wculd  rather  have  died,  than  have  been  the  first  to  advance  one  etep 
towards  a  reconciliation,  after  her  deliberate  attempt  yesterday  at  pub- 
*ickiy  exposing  me.  \^A  knock  heard  again  at  l.  d. 

C<xi   There's  somebody  else,  who  cait  it  be  ' 

Lynx.  'Tib  no  doubt,  Dismal,  our  brother  in  misfortune. 

Ood.  Misfortune ! 

Lynx.  He  and  his  wife  have  also  separated.  Indeed,  I  hear  that  of  th» 
Thole  party  of  married  people  that  sat  down  to  my  table  yesterday,  not 
»ne  couple  are  now  living  together. 

Cod.  They  found  my  example  so  very  pleasant,  I  suppose,  that  they 
could  not  resist  following  it.  [Knocking  again 

Young.  [WithaiiL]  Open  the  door,  we  wish  to  see  you. 

[Lynx  unbolti  the  door — Younghusband  and  Dismal  enter. 

Young.  [To  Coddle.]  Ah,  my  friend,  we  have  found  you  out  at  last 

Dm.  Mr.  Dove  is  below,  and  wants  to  see  you. 

Cod.  He  sha'u't  come  in  ;  I  won't  have  any  more  visitors.  I  came 
here  to  conceal  myself,  and  here  is  my  whole  circle  of  acquaintance 
tround  me  already  ;  well,  sit  down,  sit  down,  as  you  are  here.  [They 
mU  sit  ]     What  poor  unhappy  wretches  we  all  are  ! 

Yoimg.  For  my  own  part,  I  freely  confess  that  I  never  was  more 
miserable  in  all  my  days,  and  really  begin  to  think  that  a  wife  is  an  in- 
dispensable comfort. 

Cod.  Where  you've  but  one.  'Tis  a  comfort  so  peculiarly  singular 
that  once  pluralized,  it  is  destroyed. 

Dis.  I  had  no  idea  that  a  restless  night,  by  myself,  could  have  made 
me  think  so  favorably  of  Mrs.  Dismal. 

l/ynx.  Ah,  my  friends,  absence,  like  death,  leads  us  to  dwell  on  the 
better  qualities  of  those  that  are  away. 

Ccd.  And  the  heart  that  can  then  but  refer  to  faults,  is  one  of  which 
we  ought  to  be  ashamed  If  the  second  Mrs.  Coddle  had  but  consulted 
iny  comforts  a  little  more  than  ahe  did,  and  not  look'd  for  raptures  and 
passions  in  one,  who  had  them  not  in  his  nature — she  would  have  been 
•  divmity. 

YouAg  My  wife's  great  fault  is  her  perpetual  proneness  for  coi.tra- 
iiction  ;  were  she  to  qualify  her  opposition,  by  presuming  that  I  mie- 
^ak?.  or  by  merely  thinking  that  I  am  wrong,  I  should  be  satisfied  ;  but 
4er  flat  contradictions  on  every  subject  are  unbep.rsble,  and  I  won't  put 
vf  with  it ;  she  sometimes  makes  me  quite  furious,  zounds  !    . 

Itxi  My  wife's  great  defect  is  her  want  of  cheerfulness ;  and  er- 
Ae4  tmg  me  every  moment  to  be  petting  her  like  a  Dutch  pug.  I  can't 
fcndte  and  be  continually  my  dearing  ;  my  amiable  moments  are  peri 
odical 

Cod  We  are  all  wretched  creatures  and  I'm  the  most  wretched 
ftiBDng  you  ;  you  wiay  be  reconciled  some  uay  oi  other,  but  for  me-— I  an 
without  hope.   {Knocking  at  the  door,  l  r  ]  Hush  ! — who's  there  1 

l^Going  to  the  dotr 


S4  MARRIED   LUV: 

Dtme.  [  Wttkout.]  It'a  me. 

Cod.  Who? 

Dove.  Mr.  H.  Dove. 

Cod.  Yf'U  can't  come  in. 

Dove.  I  want  to  speak  to  Mi.  Coddle,  on  a  pint  of  vast  protm'vntt  to 
him. 

Dis.  I  forgot  to  tell  you,  he  was  asking  for  you  when  I  came  nf  Si 
■avs  tliat  he  has  something  to  relate  respecting  your  fiivt  wife. 

Cod.  What  can  it  be  1     Shall  I  let  him  in  ? 

Lynx.   Yes,  yes. 

[Coddle  opens  the  door ;  Dove  enters  ;  Coddle  closes  the  door  4igM% 

and  bolts  it. 

Dove.  Ha  !  how  d'ye  do,  gentlemen  all  1  We  meet  again,  under  verj 
tonspicuous  circumstances. 

f'od.   Sit  down,  sir.  [Placing  a  chair,  and  going  to  his  seat 

Dove.  We're  all  bachelors  again,  I  hear  ;  I  ain't  seen  Mrs.  Dov« 
since  yesterday  ;  she  worked  upon  my  feelings,  and  aspirated  me  to 
that  degree,  that  I  went  and  got  cuminy  fo ;  and  now  I  am  afraid  to  go 
home 

Cod.  Well,  sir  !  this  information 

Dove.  Yes,  sir, — but  first  allow  me  to  collect  my  loose  memorandums 
My  head's  a  little  circumfused. 

Lynx.   Proceed,  sir,  I  beg ;  consider  Mr.  Coddle's  anxiety. 

Dove.  Well  then — you  must  know — yesterday — after  you  had  all 
gone,  Mrs.  D.  exaggerated  me  to  such  a  pitch,  that  I  flew  out  of  the 
house — never  intending  to  be  united  again. 

Cod.  Well! 

Dove.  As  I  was  rushing  through  the  streets — resolved  to  do  as  1 
liked — and  talk  as  I  liked.  aTid  to  remove  every  obelisk  that  stood  in  nif 
way  of  so  doing,  who  should  I  run  against  but  a  lady  in  black 

Cod.    [Starting  up.]     Ah  ! 

Lynx    Sit  still,  and  hear  him  out. 

Dnre  Bless  me.  sgyg  /.  why.  ma'am,  I  know  you  ;  pray  ain't  w« 
Hnited  by  ties  of  iniquity  !  She  looked  at  me — 1  looked  at  her,  and  sli» 
became  mutilated  to  the  spot 

Cod.  Go  on,  go  on. 

Dovt.  Aunt,  says  I 

Cod.  Aunt ! 

Cod.  Aunt,  says  I — ain't  you  afraid  of  being  exercised,  and  t«keii  b» 
bre  the  conjugal  authorities  ? 

Dote.  For  what  t  tell  me  for  what  f 

All    Husli.  hush  !     Silence. 

Lynx.   Proceed,  Mr.  Dove. 

Doi-e.  Henry,  says  she,  I  am  here  on  a  matter  that  demands  me  to  be 
•ery  circumfrx,  and  I  beg  you  will  not  make  known  to  any  one  that  yov 
have  met  me  Aunt,  says  I — I — owe  you  a  grudge  ;  do  you  rcmembei 
bow  you  used  to  use  me,  when  I  cleaned  the  boots  in  that  family  wkeN 
»ou  was  cook  t 

CM.  Lord  !  cook  ?     Go  on. 


MAKRIED    LIFK.  85 

Latt.  Bat  :a  aUeviate  &  long  atoiy,  suffice  it  .o  aay— that  I  fc«nd  oat 
ikie  cal  >  herself 

Cod    Mr8.  Samuel  Coddle  ! 

Dyv.  Yes ;  she  went  out  to  the  West  Indies,  m  a  doctoi'i  faoiiij,  «■ 
t^.count  of  some  unlawful  willaniei.    She  went  to  Antigua 

Cod.  True. 

Dot:    And  changed  her  name— — 

Cod.  (changed  her  name  !     To  what — ^to  whati 

Dave.  To— I  forget— Bel 

Ood.  Belvidera  Montemarl 

Dove.  That's  it. 

Cod.  Then  her  real  name  was 

J)ovt    Jane  Hobbs. 

Cod.  Huzza,  huzza  1 — an  illegal  marriage  I  I'm  free — it  can  oe  pot 
aside  !  It  can  be  put  aside  !  Tol  de  rol  lol.  IBancing.]  You  hei.»,  sha 
was  obliged  to  leave  the  country  ;  she  imposed  upon  me  ;  »h«'s  left 
me ;  she's  here  but  to  annoy  me — but  I'm  free.  Lynx  unbolt  ,he  door, 
and  let  me  out.  [hxnx  unbolts  the  door.]  Mr.  Dove,  let  m«.  collar  you ; 
you  shall  never  leave  me  till  I  have  seen  and  satisfied  the  lawful  Mr» 
Coddle.  You  are  my  witness,  and  mupt  come  to  your  a'ani  and  then  to 
my  wife  ;  follow  us,  my  dear  friends — follow  us  ;  serk  jour  wives  and 
be  leconciled  ;  I'll  set  you  the  example.  Don't  attempt  o  get  away  from 
me;  \^To  Dove.]  you  are  my  best  friend,  and  I  phdll  never  quit  my 
hold  of  you.  I  wouldn't  part  with  you  for  a  million  of  money.  My 
dear  friend,  my  preserver,  my  everything  on  ear<h  to  me — come  with 
me  to  your  aunt,  to  Belvidera — never  mind  hat,  coat,  anything.  My 
dear,  my  only  Mrs.  Coddle,  open  your  arms,  and  rsceive  your  husband, 
and  his  fiiend. 

{Rushing  out,  l.  d.,  and  dras^ing   Dovh  with  h,m  by  the  collar, 

Ly.nx.  [Calling  after  him.]  Coddle,  my  dear  tellow,  where  are  you 
running  T — let  us  follow  him,  my  friends,  and  assist  each  other  in 
seareh  ofour  wives,  and  do  our  best  lo  obtain  mutual  forgiveness. 

i£!xit  Lynx,  l.  d. 

Jhs-  I  won't — I've  been  used  very  ill — I  walked  before  my  house  fci 
ail  hour  this  morning,  and  though  Mrs.  D.  was  seated  at  the  window, 
she  wouldn't  turn  her  head  to  notice  me. 

Young  Where  my  wife  can  be  I  am  at  a  loss  to  guess.  Not  at  hei 
aunt's;  1  have  been  there,  and  they  have  not  seen  her.  I  am  getting 
<|uite  dis'.racted. 

Dis.  So  am  I. 

Young.  Then  give  me  your  arm  ;  if  you  won't  go  home  to  your  wilt 
you  must  and  shall  help  me  to  regain  mine  It  is  a  man's  duty,  air,  fei 
advance  the  first  step  towards  a  reconciliation 

J)u.  1  have  advanced. 
Young.  You  have  not. 

iX»    Didn't  I  walk  in  the  house  T 
Young.  iNo. 

Dit.  I  did,  and  I  won  t  go  a^'ain. 

Toung  You  shah.  If  you  don't  know  your  duty,  I'll  teach  it  y«l 
Some,  ail,  come.  [Exit  Yidnohusband  dragging  cjff  Disil*i„  u  A 


iS  MARRIED    LIFE 

SCENE   II. — A  Room  at  a  Boarding  Hc^ite. 

Efdei  Mki    hvNX,  followed  hy  Mrs.  Coddle,  Mrs.  Yoi;icaR0gKAir>, 
Mas.  DisMAJ.,  and  Mas.  Dove,  r.  h.  I  k. 

Mr».  Cod.  The  unhappy  creature,  Mrs.  Belvidera  Coddle,  is  lodgbig 
here,  you  teil  me.  [To  Mas.  Dismal 

Mr».  Dis  Yes.  'twas  et  the  door  of  this  house  that  I  saw  Mr.  Lyni 
litlking  to  her  yesterday. 

Mrs.  Cod.  As  she  is  not  within,  I  shall  look  in  agiin.  I  am  resolvea 
lo  see  her,  for  the  more  I  ruiect,  the  more  I  am  incensed  against  mj 
bnsband.     Oh  !  I  am  a  wretched  woman. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Indeed,  I  am. 

Mrs   Dove.  So  am  I. 

Mr»  Dis.  So  am  I. 

Mrs.  Y.  I'm  completely  miseraWe — miserable. 

Mrs.  Cod.  I  went  home,  but  Coddle  never  came  near  the  house ;  he 
has  abs"Conded,  no  doubt  ;  I  did  not  close  my  eyes  all  night. 

Mrs.  Dove.  I  have  been  in  a  state  of  perfect  distraction  since  my 
dnhappy  disagreement  with  Henry — where  can  he  have  gone  1 

Mrs.  Y.  I  would  not  go  to  my  aunt — I  changed  my  mind,  called  on 
Mrs.  Dismal,  and  sat  up  with  her.  I  am  determined  not  to  return  home 
till  Frederick  fetches  me ;  it  was  Uncle  Tolloday  that  gave  me  the 
thimble. 

Mrs.  Dis.  If  you  had  not  come  to  me,  Mrs.  Y..  I  should  have  died 
before  morning ;  as  it  is,  Mr.  D.'s  cruel  indifference  has  worn  me  to  a 
shade. 

Mrs.  Cod.  Indifference  I  I'm  sure  the  apathy  of  my  husband  was 
never  equalled  ;  I  have  flirted  with  a  dozen  young  men  in  one  evening 
to  excite  him  to  a  little  harmless  jealousy,  but  in  vain,  and  1  really  think,' 
he  would  neither  have  stirred,  nor  cared,  had  I  eloped  with  three  cap- 
tains at  once.  And  now  to  discover  that  he  has  another  wife  '  Ok  ! 
if  I  could  see  him  again — I  think  I  should  assassinate  him  !  a  monster  ! 
a — eh  !  [Sobbing. 

Mrs.  Bis.  Just  like  my  Dismal ;  when  we  go  into  company,  he 
always  gets  as  far  away  from  me  as  he  can  ;  never  notices  me — never 
■miles  at  me — never  looks  as  if  he  loved  me.  I — I — I  am  a  very  ill- 
used  woman.  [Sobbing. 

Mrs.  Y.  [Sobbing.]  Don't  weep,  Mrs.  Dismal;  don't  weep  ;  I  won't, 
if — if — I  break  my  heart.  Y.  sha'n't  say  that  I  ever  dropped  a  tear  at 
his  absence — an  aggravating  creature  ;  though  I  could  be  comfortable 
with  him,  if  he  would  not  contradict  me  in  every  thing  I  say — and  do— 
and— and— oh  !  [Crying. 

Mrs.  Dove.  [Sobbing.  Oh,  Henry! — once  reconciled,  I  will  never 
eorrect  you  again  ;  you  may  select  your  own  words  from  any  dictionary 
foa  may  think  proper. 

Mrs  Ly.  [Sobbing.]  M*  wretched  fate  is  fixed  ;  I  have  suffered  b©- 
yond  the  bounds  of  endurance,  and  can  suffer  no  more. 

Mrs  God.  My  friends  ! — ladies  1 — bless  me,  we  are  all  in  tears !  thif 
BilUt  not  be ;  what  would  our  husbands  say  if  they  knew  af  our  weak- 
Bes*''     No,  no— we  must  not  break  our  hearts  for  such  creature  i:  w« 


MARRIED    LIFE.  87 

Buvi  rally  and    augh      Ha  !  ha  !   ha  !    laugh,  ladies,  laugrhl   and  make 

four  arrangements  foi  the  future  with  resolution  and  spirit.  You,  Mr» 
•ynx.  will,  I  presume  for  the  present  lodge  here.  I  shall  now  step  t« 
m/  friends  and  return  in  half  an  hour.  Mrs.  Dove,  you  are  a  sensible 
and  well-educated  woman  ;  pray  accompany  me,  .i  id  give  me  your  ad- 
vice !  we  may  hear  of  Mr.  Dove  while  we  are  gone.  Ml*.  Y.,  yuu,  of 
course,  will  stay  with  Mrs.  Dismal  for  the  present.  Good  tye,  my 
dears,  good  bye  !  Now,  pray,  don't  fret ;  be  women — he  women  — don'J 
weep  about  a  man.  W'iiat  are  men  1 — mere  self-elected  law  makers 
Don't  despair,  ladies ;  the  time  is  fast  coming  when  we  shall  haTt 
voices  in  the  legislation  of  the  country,  and  then  let  them  lo  ik  to  thein 
questions.  The  wrongs  done  to  our  sex  for  centuries,  shall  be  well 
revenged  in  the  first  session.  [Exi(  with  Mrs.  Dovk,  l 

Mrs.  Y.  Good  bye,  Mrs.  Lynx  ;  if  you  wish  to  see  us,  we  are  only 
next  doov  to  you,  you  know.  And  pray,  if  you  hear  anything  of  oui 
husbands,  apprize  us  immediately,  and  we  will  do  the  same  for  you. 
[Taking  Mrs.  Dismal's  arm.'\  Now  if  Mr.  Dismal  passes  the  house 
again,  I  will  call  him  in. 

Mrs.  Dis.   No,  no  ;  you  shall  not. 

Mrs.  Y   I  wM. 

Mrs.  Dis.   1  won't  hear  of  it. 

Mrs.  Y.  I'm  not  used  to  contradict,  but  you  must.  Though  I  am 
wretched,  if  I  can  assist  in  restoring  happiness  to  others  Mrs.  Frederick 
Younghiisband  is  not  the  woman  to  be  idle  in  such  a  matter.  So  come, 
Jear  D.,  smile  and  look  pleasant !  [Exit  with  Mas.  Dibmal,  l.  d. 

Mrs.  Ly.  \_Alo7ie.']  Now,  what  course  shall  I  take  ? — that  my  hus 
band  is  guilty,  I  have  abundant  proof — and  that  I  can  never,  never  live 
with  him  again,  is  equally  sure.  I  have  sought  a  refuge  here,  in  a 
miserable  lodging-house  ;  for  where  had  I  to  go  1  Where  could  ar 
outraged  and  homeless  wife  seek  for  shelter]  with  friends — with  rela 
tions  !  No,  no ;  I  could  not  endure  that  bitter  humiliation.  If  I  aoj 
to  be  wretched,  it  shall  be  unseen  and  alone  ;  I'll  have  no  cold  and 
affected  sympathy — no  pity  from  my  kindred.  Pity !  there  is  no  such 
reeling  !  'tis  disguised  triumph,  and  we  know  it  too  ;  else  why  does  the 
soul  rise  up  withui  us  and  spurn  itl  [Looking  off.  r.  f.  e  ]  Ah,  he 
here!  the  writer  of  the  letter  I  received  yesterday?  then  he  has  traced 
me  to  this  house.  What  shall  I  do]  he  must  not  see  me.  Hark  !  [/t»- 
te.ns\  he  is  making  enquiries  concerning  me;  how  shall  I  avoid  himi 
To  retaliate  upon  my  husband,  I  affected  to  encourage  that  man,  and 
he  thus  presumes  upon  it.  But  now,  though  I  shall  never  return  again 
to  my  home,  I  must  avoid  all  that  would  make  me  cease  to  respect  my- 
self— I'll  to  my  room.  \_Exil,  b.  t.  a 
Enter  Lynx,  'u 

Lynx.  I  have  been  rightly  informed,  my  wife  is  here.  Now  th&t  ] 
nave  no  further  occasion  for  secrecy,  shs  shall  know  all;  and  if  I  csf 
VKakv  her  to  a  sense  of  the  mis(  hiefs  that  will  :irisp  from  a  too  watchful 
jealo<i'!y,  I  will  henceforth  pursue  that  line  of  conduct  which  must  ana 
■hall  ensure  happiness.  \Ht  is  going-,  r.]  What !  who  is  that  '  [Look 
^tg  off.]  He  speaks  to  my  wife — she  repul.'-es  him- -he  follows  h«' 
idlain  [I. TNI  riiskes  off  c 


M  MARRIED    LIFE. 

CorDLE  heard  imthout,  L. 

God.  Come  along.  Dove,  come  along ;  my  wife  is  here.  3aau  MQl 
peet  friend — my  preserver. 

JS!nier  Coddle,  dragging  Dove  ;  Dove's  coat  is  torn,  and  slriiing  in  fioin 
to  release  himself  from  the  grasp  of  Coddls. 

Cod.  Huzza  !  huzza  !  you've  told  the  truth,  Dove — you've  told  the 
mth — Belvidera  has  retreated  and  left  me  master  of  tlie  field.  Be 
jfrateful,  you  villain,  be  grateful.  She  would  have  torn  your  eyes  out. 
Murdered  you,  had  it  not  been  for  me. 

Dovf    But,  Mr.  Coddle,  my  coat  is  separating  ;  let  me  go. 

Coa.  No,  no,  I  must  now  introduce  you  to  my  wife.  Where  ie  she  ' 
Mrs  Coddle  I  [Cal'.ing.]  Mrs.  Coddle'  They  told  me  she  was  here; 
where  are  you,  my  dear,  where  are  you  ^  She  can't  be  in  the  house; 
then  we'll  run  ail  over  London  but  we'll  lind  her.  Come,  Dove,  my 
friend,  my  preserver,  come. 

Dove.  Oh,  Mr   Coddle,  let  me  go.  let  me  go. 

Cod.   No,  no,  I'll  never  part  with  my  witness  ;  come,  you  delightful 
fellow,  come,  you  shall  never  leave  me  till  I  am  restored  to  ha['pine»8. 
[Coddle,  during  the  foregoing  exclamations,  has  dragged  Dovt 
round  the  stage  and  goes  off  with  him  again,  l. 

SCENE  III. — A  gallery  in  the  Boarding  House  ;   in  the  flat,  are  tite 
practicable  doors.     Lynx  heard  within. 

Lynx.  [Withcu  J  Villain  !  Villain  I  what  do  you  here  1 

[A  noise  as  of  a  struggle;  a  scream  heard. 
I  am  unarmed,  or  you  should  not  leave  this  alive  ;  come,  Emmeline, 
come  with  me. 

Enter  Lynx,  dragging  out  his  wife ;  she  is  pale  and  agitated. 

Mrs.  Ly.  Ah,  Lionel — is  it  you,  is  it  you  T  Oh,  bless  you,  blesa  you. 
l^Taking  his  hands— he  places  her  in  a  chair. '\  I  have  brought  thii  upon 
myself. 

Lynx.   But  you  are  safe ;  and  who  has  saved  you  1 

Mrs.  Ly.   [Fallins  on  his  nerk.]  My  husband  ! 

Jjynx    Stay  you  here,  I  unll  follow  him  and  have  revenge. 

Mrs.  Ly.   [Clinging  to  Aim.]  Nay,  nay,  I  implore  you,  stay  neai  m 
--about  me — leave  me  not  again. 

/jynx.  But  I  have  now  a  clue  to  him,  which  I  will  not  forsake  dU 
%\M  heart's  blood  atones  for  my  injuries. 

lirs.  Ly.  Do  you  know  him,  that  you  speak  thus? 

Lynx.   I  do,  indeed. 

Mri.  Ly.   Who — and  what  is  he1 

Lynx  Who  ^  Lsten,  Emmeline  ;  the  deceiver  of  my  sister,  and  tht 
ftither  of  that  girl,  through  whom  we  separated  and  thus  meet  again. 

Mrs.  Ly.  The  father ! 

Lynx.  I  dared  not  confers  as  much  before.  I  was  bound,  sworn  t* 
SBcrecy  by  my  sister  ;  but  her  death  now  makes  me  free  to  tell  you  nil 

Mn.  Lf    Forgive  me — 1 — I  am  satisfied. 


MARKilj:!)    LUK.  39 

Lvnt  Yi  a  shall  first  know  that  you  have  good  cause  to  be  sc  ;  that 
filUin  in  early  life  wrojiged  my  sister ;  she  afterwards  married  ;  had 
her  fweviods  intimacy  with  this  man  been  tnown,  ruin,  in  the  nobl« 
sphere  in  which  she  moved,  must  have  awaited  her;  I  kept  her  secret 
religiously,  and,  as  you  know,  at  the  expense  of  my  own  peace  ;  I  wm 
»»  a  fafher  to  the  girl ;  and  though  she  left  the  asvlum  in  which  I  placed 
her,  yet  'twas  for  an  honorable  and  a  happy  marriage. 

Mrg.  Ly  No  more,  no  more,  dear  Lionel :  I  have  been  a  weak  aai 
fiolish  woman,  but  never  will  f  doubt  you  again. 

Lynx.  And  never  more,  dear  Emmeline,  will  1  give  you  cause  ;  on 
the  conduct  of  the  husband  chietiy  rests  the  virtue  of  the  wife,  ai  1  1 
nere  rijnounce  all  my  follies  for  ever      But  for  that  villain 

A^"*.  Ly.  Nay,  nay,  be  satisfied,  be  at  peace;  and  let  mutual  con^ 
den-T*  henceforth  secure  to  us  that  happiness  to  which  we  have  bo  loim 
txseo  •trangers. 

L,ynx.   It  shall,  Emmeline,  it  shall  [They  embrace 

BhU^  Mr.  and  Mks.  Younghusband  and  Ma.  and  Mas.  Dismal,  arm  in 
arm,  and  laughing  ,  Mrs.  Dove  following. 

Mrs.  Y.  What !  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lynx,  and  embracing  too :  then  you 
b^ve  explained  and  made  it  up,  as  we  have  done.  Well,  this  is  delight- 
ful !  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dismal  are  friends  ;  I  saw  him  watching  his  house  ■ 
I  rushed  out — dragged  him  in. — Y.,  who  was  with  him,  followed  ;  we 
l^outed  a  little — coquetted  a  little — cried  a  little — and  then  rushed  into 
»ach  other's  arms;  didn't  we,  Frederick'! 

Youno    No,  I 

Mrs.  Y.  Hush  !  remember,  dear ;  you  have  promised  never  to  con- 
tradict me  again. 

Mrs.  Bis.  And  my  George  has  vowed  to  be  as  kind,  and  as  attentiv* 
in  future,  as 

Dis.  As  1  can. 

Mrs.  Y.  There  is  poor  Mrs.  Dove  in  an  agony  about  her  Henxj. 
She  left  Mrs.  Coddle — came  to  us — was  told  that  hci  husband  wa«  in 
this  house — and  he  is  still  nowhere  to  be  found. 

Lynx.  We  heard  both  him  and  Mr.  Coddle  were  here  not  long  fincc^ 

DoTK,  without. 
Dove.  Martha  ! 
Mrs.  Boot    Ah  !  I  hear  his  welcome  voice. 

Enter  Dovk,  Ai*  clothes  torn  to  ribands. 

Duet.  Martha  !  are  you  hereT     Oh,  look  at  me. 

Mrs.  Dove.  Henry  !  look  at  me,  and  forgive  me. 

Ikne.  Forgive  you,  Martha  !  yes.  that  I  will,  after  what  I've  iiu8m 
risice  our  abduction.  This  is  all  Mr.  Coddle's  doings ;  I  Wis  his  wit 
Q»M,  ai.d  he  wouldn't  let  me  leave  him  till  I  had  seen  aunt  Hobbs  and 
»Ir§  Coddle,  in  his  presence.  We  have  seen  'em  ;  aunt  Hobbs  it  gons 
>ff  igam  .  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Coddle  are  coming  here  with  \ii  thai 
iifferences  re-umred. 

y  )   Done.   YooT  aunt  Hobbs  ! 


411  MARRIED    LIFB. 

Jbcnt  Don't  aak  questions  now,  dear ;  when  we  are  alone  ITl  fcftft 
iMrre  evetj  itiing. 

M.rt.  Dome.  Elucidate  ! 

Divec.   Now,  you  are  going  to  begin  again,  love  ! 

Mrs.  Dove.  No,  Henry,  I  forgot  myself;  I  never  shall  correct  jo«, 
more,  dear. 

/inter  Coddle,  capering,  drested  in  a  suit  of  nankeen;  Mrs.  CooDr.B  a» 
his  arm. 

Cod.  Here  we  are !  here  we  are !  Belvidera  has  retreated  in  cort- 
feeion ;  and  the  conquering  hero,  with  his  only  lawful  wife,  standi 
before  you  in  all  the  conscious  pride  of  innocence,  and  a  complete  suit 
of  Nankeen. 

All.  Nankeen 

Cod.  Yes  ;  no  linnig — no,  Mrs.  Coddle  has  heard  all — and  has  for 
given  all ;  she  is  now  convinced  how  I  was  duped  by  my  first  wife  ;  has 
Lad  proof  of  her  leaving  me — of  her  plundering  me — of  her  coming 
here  merely  to  make  a  property  of  me — of  the  illegality  of  the  marriage  ; 
and  here  we  are  united  and  happy  again  ;  and  there  stands  my  friend 
and  preserver,  of  whom  I  shall  ever  think  with  gratitude. 

IPointtng  to  Dove. 

Dove.  Then  allow  me  to  observe,  while  you  were  pillaging  your 
wardrobe,  your  gratitude  might  have  jogged  your  memory  a  little,  re- 
specting the  condition  of  your  preserver's  clothes;  this  is  quite  the 
result  of  your  own  exuberance. 

Mrs.  Dove.  My  dear  Henry 

Cod.  Hush,  Mrs.  Dove  ;  allow  your  husband  to  select  his  own  wordi 
at  pleasure — yield  a  little  to  each  other,  "tis  the  best  and  only  way  to 
secure  domestic  peace.  I  shall  yield  everything.  Look  at  me  ;  I  thai 
three  days  ago  was  all  flatmel  and  under-waistcoats,  now  intend  to  defy 
air,  draughts,  open-windows,  corner-houses,  everything;  and  I  and  Mrs. 
Coddle  are  going  in  search  of  the  North  Pole.  Lynx,  my  boy,  have 
you  cleared  up  your  mystery  and  satisfied  your  wife? — that's  right,  now 
let  us  forgive  and  forget ;  forget  all  but  those  qualities  that  first  induced 
us  to  marry      Mrs    Sam.,  what  did  you  have  me  for? 

Mrs  Cod.  Because  I  could  discover,  through  all  your  erxjentricitiet, 
a  natural  goodness  of  heart. 

Cod.  Then  whenever  you  are  inclined  to  be  angry  with  nie,  alwayt 
^aink  of  that,  and  I,  in  return,  will  ever  remember  the  affectico  thai 
irst  led  me  to  seek  you.      Lynx,  what  did  you  marry  fori 

Lynx.     I  freely  confess  it  was  for  love. 

Cod.  And  you,  Mrs.  Lynx,  married  him  firom  the  same  impulm-  1 

Mrs.  Ly.  Yes,  sir. 

Ood.  And  you,  Mr  and  Mrs.  Younghusband,  marrifei 

Young.  For  the  same  reason,  as  our  friends  Mr.  and  Mjii.  bVU 
Kiairied. 

Mrs.  Y.  For  the  same  reason,  precisely. 

Cod.   And  you,  Mr.  Dismal  1 

]}i».  Because  I  was  tired  of  living  alone. 

Cod.  And  Mrs.  D-  was  weary  of  the  same  hfe,  no  iloiilitt 


MARRIBD   LIFE,  41 

lfr$.  Dis.  I  confess  my  weakness. 

fhd    And  you,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dove,  married— -tecau«e  - 

Mrs.  Dove.  Being  a  widow,  and  accustomed  to  a  shurer  in  niy  jofl 
md  sorrows 

Dim*-    You  took  me  int:)  partnership,  at  my  master's  dissolution. 

(!oa  Well,  then,  whenever  a  disagreement  breaks  out  among  you  is 
'ntjre.  recall  the  memory  of  those  inducements  which  first  led  you  tc 
.tank  of  each  other,  and  you  will  find  it  to  be  a  wonderful  help  to  tJi« 
Mu>/Btton  of  peace.     Do  you  all  agree  to  this  I 

All.  Yes,  yes. 

Cod  Then  follow  my  example,  and  ratify  the  agreement  by  a  heart) 
conjugal  embrace  ;  /  will  give  the  word  of  command      Make  ready  ! 

[As  Coddle  jiuls  his  c-m  round  his  wife's  waist,  each  of  the  husbandM 
do  the  same  to  tneir  tcivea. 
Present ! 

[Coddle  lakes  his  wife  s  chin  between  his  fingers  and  thumb,  and  pr# 

pares  to  kiss  her — all  the  husbands  do  the  same. 
fire ! 

\_They  all  kiss  and  embrmce  at  the  same  moment. 

Cod.  There,  this  is  the  way  that  all  matrimonial  quarrels  should  end  ; 
and  if  yoM  are  of  the  same  opinion,  [To  the  audience]  then,  indeed  will 
our  conjugal  joy  be  complete,  and  our  light  lesson  not,,  have  been  read 
in  vain.  You  have  seen  the  r'^sult  of  perpetual  jealousy,  in  the  case  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lynx  ;  of  continual  disputes  and  contradiction  in  that  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Younghusband  ;  of  a  want  of  cheerfulness  in  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Dismal  .  of  the  impolicy  of  public  correction,  in  the  instance  of 
Mrs.  Dove  ;  and  of  the  necessity  of  assimilating  habits  and  tempers  in 
the  singular  case  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Coddle  And  though  these  mav  not 
be  one  half  the  cause  of  quarrel  between  man  and  wife — yet,  even  their 
exposure  uj.iy  serve  as  beacon  lights,  to  avoid  the  rocks  of  altercation, 
when  sailing  on  the  sea  of  matrimony.  So  think  of  us,  all  ye  anticipa- 
Ung  and  smiling  single  people;  for  you  must  or  ought,  all  to  be  married,  and 
the  soor,  ?r  the  better — and  remember  us,  ye  already  paired  ;  and  let  our 
example  prove  to  you,  that,  to  mutual  forbearance,  mutual  confidence, 
aiulual  habits,  mutual  everything,  must  we  owe  mutual  happiness.  And 
«>iiere  car  the  best  of  hapj)iness  be  found,  but  in  a  loyal  and  affectionat 
ttanried  life. 

DISPOSITION    or    THE    CUARACTERe. 


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